


back in the days of our youth

by PidgeScarlet



Series: SBI Oneshots [9]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Emotional Manipulation, Evil Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Good Older Sibling Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kid TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Manipulation, Mild Gore, Not Canon Compliant, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Philza may or may not be immortal, Platonic Relationships, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), President Toby Smith | Tubbo, Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Slow To Update, Temporary Character Death, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Video Game Mechanics, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, even i don't know if he is, we talking minecraft potions here tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29280894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PidgeScarlet/pseuds/PidgeScarlet
Summary: Tommy is in exile. Solely dependent on Dream, Tommy only can think back to the days were he remembered what freedom was truly like. When his defiance gets him in trouble one day, Dream offers him a potion, and Tommy doesn't hesitate to take it. Dream's his friend, right?Next thing Tommy knows he's eight years old, no father or brothers in sight, and he has no idea who this green guy with the stupid mask is. So, of course, he kicks the guy and takes off running.With a body and mind reversed eight years into the past, a memory troubled Tommy has to depend on Technoblade to help him figure out this new situation, without being kidnapped by the green guy or L'Manburg first. But as time goes on, Tommy begins to wonder about future Tommy, who doesn't seem to have been living a happy life. What happened in the past eight years that left him and the people around him so traumatized?⟲  ○ ◯ ○  ⟳Inspired by the awesome prompt by an anonymous user who writes the prompt fic 'Take and leave'
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Sleepy Bois Inc - Relationship, Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: SBI Oneshots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079132
Comments: 464
Kudos: 2060





	1. Reverse or Rewind

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Take and leave](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28904427) by Anonymous. 



> This story was inspired by a prompt by an anonymous user who writes the prompt fic 'Take and leave.' Inspired by Chapter 69. Go check out the original prompt and continue reading to see what I decided to create from it!
> 
> As usual, if any creators express discomfort in these types of fics I'll take it down right away, or tell me so I can.
> 
> _I'll be damned if I don't complete this fic I haven't have this much motivation and inspiration in forever..._

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy drinks a potion. Techno finds a young boy.
> 
> TW: Manipulation, Potion/Drug Use

Tommy had been in exile for a month now, at least. He had stopped keeping track days ago. But he knew this much because beforehand he scratched the days into the bark of the logs that surrounded the hut Ghostbur had built in their first couple of days on the Ender-damned beach. He had a few visitors in his first few days of exile, but it had been at least two weeks since anyone other than Dream had showed up. Ghostbur had vanished after a week and a half into his exile, on the same day as his failed beach party. Ranboo only left him little messages when he got the chance, which was not often. And Tommy had only seen Tubbo once, in a sickly hallucination where his own mind decided to betray him.

But Dream, Dream was his friend. Right?

He must be. He was the only one that bothered to visit. Sometimes he would bring gifts, like food or tools that he let him keep for the day. And after blowing up his other tools and armor he let him run about with his trident on occasion, or help him with the ‘chores’ in the land of his exile. One time they even sat in Ghostbur’s hut and Dream taught him how to play chess. That was a good night, with no punishments, just laughter and cheap tricks.

Sure, it sucked that his items were taken away, but he was being taught a lesson, it was for his own benefit. And that little flicker of disobedience, defiance, that would refuse to bow to Dream still lived on. That little flicker in him persuaded him to hide away some items from Dream’s all-seeing eyes. It’s what kept him alive on the darker days where he wanted nothing more but to slip into sleep and never wake up.

It was also that little flicker that was going to get him killed.

Ears ringing, burns tingling, and tears streaming, Tommy stared at the remains of what used to be Logstedshire. Dream stood besides him, still holding the flint and steel that he had used to blow up the place, his home. Dream put a hand on his shoulder and Tommy had to force himself to refrain from flinching.

“You needed to be taught a lesson Tommy,” Dream was saying. “You can’t disobey me without getting punished for it.”

“I’m sorry Dream,” Tommy pleaded, ignoring the way his body ached and ignoring the voice that screamed for him to run away. “I’m sorry, I really am, please don’t leave me alone. Please don’t leave.”

If Tommy could see underneath Dream’s mask he’d be seeing the green-eyed man smiling down at him with a look of satisfaction. Instead, Tommy watched and felt as Dream lifted a hand to caress his cheek, swiping a thumb against it, probably cleaning up ash that had stuck to his skin. Tommy was still, not daring to move an inch and reawaken Dream’s wrath once more.

“You’re covered in burns,” Dream remarked, stating the obvious truth. He reached into the pouch at his side, pulling out two potions. Tommy eyed them warily, but also hopefully. His whole body ached, and the exposed burns and cuts on his skin burned. “You can have these,” Dream said, handing him the potions. Tommy uncorked them carefully, not bothering to check the colors of the contents before pouring them down his throat. He trusted Dream. Dream was his friend. Dream was his savior. Dream was his punisher. But Dream wouldn’t leave Tommy hurt for too long, not if he was in danger of dying. He gagged at the taste of magic and blazepower, feeling a little sick to his stomach. Dream wrapped an arm around his shoulder and led him to his tent, the poor thing looking worse for wear after all the explosions.

“Get some rest Tommy,” Dream said sweetly, almost too sweetly. Tommy didn’t care though, this side of Dream was the good Dream. The nice Dream that gave him gifts and bandaged his wounds. “I’ll be here in the morning.”

Tommy blinked, his eyelids and body feeling heavy. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t bring himself to form words. It felt as if he was walking through honey and his world blurred in and out of focus. He felt his body get lowered to the ground, and whimpered when he felt the warm arms that used to hold him up leave. He listened to the murmurs coming from Dream, unable to decipher what he was saying. He had half a mind to wonder what those potions were, but his brain was too clouded to truly care. Before he knew it, his eyes were closing and darkness fell.

⟲ ○ ◯ ○ ⟳

It was cold. Tommy whimpered and curled into himself. He could hear birds, and oddly enough, the sound of waves crashing against the shore. As far as he knew, he didn’t live next to the ocean. He lived in the cottage on the outskirts of the forest in the plains biome where he lived with his dad and brothers. This was wrong, something was wrong.

Tommy hesitantly pulled himself up, rubbing at one of his eyes as he blinked away the sleepiness. He studied his surroundings. He was in a ratted white, or gray, tent that had a few chests sitting across from him. He was wearing clothes that were much too big for him, and while he enjoyed going to sleep in baggy shirts he knew he didn’t own any clothes like this. He was lucky enough to find some other clothes in the chests, even if they were still too big, they were better than nothing. Tommy was just happy that he had found a belt to hold up his pants, otherwise they would’ve probably fallen off.

After dressing himself, Tommy peaked out of the tent, looking at the landscape around him. There was a beautiful sparkling ocean, the only nice thing about this place. Everything else was blown to pieces, ash still settling in the grass and unearthed rock lying haphazardly around the explosion pits. Tommy lifted up one of his feet to see the ash covering the bottom of his feet, staining them black. He fake gagging, thinking about how his dad would force him into a bath as soon as he got home. Phil always was super insistent about staying clean and while he didn’t mind it half of the time it sure did get annoying.

He’d just have to find his dad first, once he figured out where he was.

“Tommy?”

Startled by a voice he didn’t recognize, Tommy spun around and looked up to see a tall man with a really stupid mask staring down at him. The mask covered his whole face, and the stupid smiley face drawn on it made Tommy cringe. The man was dressed in a horribly bright green sweatshirt and had a belt with potions and a sword hanging on it. On his back he could see an axe and crossbow and Tommy couldn’t stop himself from stepping away from the dangerous looking stranger. He didn’t seem very friendly. These were the type of men that his dad warned him about, telling him to run from and get him right away when they approached him.

“Who’s askin’?” Tommy asked the man, alarm bells going off in his head. “How’d you know my name?”

“Your dad sent me to get you,” the tall green stupid man said. Tommy looked the man up and down and shook his head.

“No he didn’t,” Tommy said defiantly, crossing his arms. “My dad doesn’t know anyone like you.”

The masked man shifted on his feet and took a step closer. The confidence and power in his pose made Tommy nervous. He froze instead of taking another step backward when the man got closer.

“Oh c’mon Tommy, just let me take you home,” the man said, resting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. The alarm bells rang loudly in his head and the younger boy snapped, promptly taking the man’s arm and biting down on his wrist as hard as he could. The man yelped and Tommy couldn’t help but feel proud of himself when he broke the man’s skin before he managed to pull away. As the man clutched his wrist Tommy took the chance to kick him as hard as he could in the shin, before he punched him in his dick and took off running. He was glad that the advice Wilbur had given him had come in handy, even though he thought he’d never have to use it.

The man doubled over and groaned in pain, shouting and cursing at Tommy as he ran away, only making the boy laugh as he ran into the dark oak forest across the long plain. He didn’t know where his dad was, or his brothers, but he bet they were worried sick. And something in his gut told him that the green man was bad news.

Tommy didn’t stop running, not until he got to the snowy forest. He remembers the stories his brother told him about men with frostbite, and when he looked down at his disheveled self he couldn’t help but think about all the ways the cold could kill him. So he climbed up in a tree and waited. Surely his dad was searching for him, his brothers too. They wouldn’t leave him.

Night fell and Tommy shivered. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he felt as if he was dying from the cold. He was tired, he felt sick to his stomach, and worse of all his family still hadn’t come for him.

To make matters worse there was a mob shooting at him, having found him sitting only a few feet up in the tree.

Tommy was doing everything an eight-year old could to keep the Ender-damned thing away. He threw back the arrows it shot at him, along with branches he’d ripped off the tree. But the mob persisted, and when one arrow came dangerously close Tommy couldn’t help but let out a terrible scream.

He screamed and he sobbed and he kicked when something grabbed his ankle and pulled him from the tree.

“Let me go you stupid green fuck!” Tommy shouted, thinking that the green man from earlier had come to take him away again.

“Ender, kid settle down!”

Tommy stopped kicking. He knew that voice, even if it sounded a bit deeper than he remembered. He froze and looked up into the face, or well mask, or his supposed kidnapper.

And there he was, in all his glory. With the golden crown that rested atop long pink locks and the pig skull mask that looked down at him, hiding warm brown eyes. Strapped to his hip by his side hung a sword in its sheath, and in his hand he held a very fancy looking axe that he didn’t remember his brother owning.

Technoblade.

“Technoblade!” Tommy shouted happily before throwing his arms around his brother, only reaching the tall boy’s waist, which felt wrong but also right. “Oh my Ender I had the worst day ever. I think I was kidnapped, and there was this really stupid looking bitch with an even stupider mask. I was at ‘dis place and there was ‘dis ocean, which was kinda pretty, but everything else was blown up! The fucking weird green guy said he was gonna take me to dad and I thought ‘oh hell no’ ‘cause the guy looked like a creep, I’m telling you he was a wrong’un, so I punched him in the balls just like how Wilbur taught me how too and then I ran. I’ve been up in that tree like all day and I’m so hungry and my butt and legs hurt from sitting like all day, not to mention ’m super cold and ’m hungry.”

“Uh, what?”

Tommy noticed that his brother wasn’t hugging him back, and he frowned before stepping backward. His brother was practically frozen in place, staring at him, his axe still in hand.

“What?” he asked, crossing his arms. “That’s all you’re gonna say? I was kidnapped and now I’m starving!”

“Tommy?” Techno asked, looking more than confused.

“Who else?” Tommy said with a huff. “Say, did you get taller?”

“Tommy, shut up for a moment, please,” Techno said as he ran a hand over the top of his hair. He looked worried, more worried than that time he watched Wilbur fall out of a tree and break his arm, or the time when he found Tommy after he went missing for nearly the whole day because he got lost in the forest.

“Is everything alright big man?” Tommy asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“NO!” Techno shouted, making Tommy flinch backwards. “TOMMY YOU LOST AT LEAST A FOOT OF YOUR HEIGHT AND YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO HATE ME!”

“Hey!” Tommy exclaimed, crossing his arms. “I did not shrink! I’m tall for my age!”

“Tommy you are literally like four and a half feet tall right now,” Techno said. “You’re supposed to be about six feet tall. How is that tall for your age?”

“Excuse you, I’m four feet and eight inches,” Tommy said in a sassy tone, shifting on his feet and standing taller. “And I’m a growing boy. I haven’t hit puberty yet.”

“Tommy you’re sixteen,” Techno deadpanned. Tommy blinked, and then burst out laughing.

“No, I’m not?” he said through a wheeze, although it was more of a question than an answer. “You alright big man? ‘Cause other than Wilbur you're the only other sixteen year old I know.”

“Tommy, I’m twenty-four,” Techno said, in the same deadpan monotone voice as before.

“I think you’re del-uuuu-sion-al,” Tommy sang, drawing out and over pronouncing the word ‘delusional.’

“You know what, just follow me,” Techno said with an exasperated sigh, before walking off into the trees. Tommy glanced down at his bare feet and the snow on the ground before running after his brother. He tugged on his cape, trying to ignore the weirdness of this fact because the cape was blue and not red, and trying to get Techno’s attention.

“Techno, Technoooo,” Tommy whined. “Techie please stop you’re walking too fast.”

“Walk faster Tommy!” Techno snapped. Tommy came to a halt and blinked back tears.

“M’ feet hurt,” he said, biting back the sob that was building up in his throat. He didn’t want to cry again, not in front of his big brother. He was supposed to be a big man, but he was tired, and hungry, and he was starting to lose feeling in his feet after being outside in the snow for so long. “I don’t have any shoes.”

Techno’s head whipped around and for the first time he got a good look at his brother’s ratty appearance. There was soot and ash all over his skin and it turned his usually well kept blond hair a dirty gray-blond instead. His clothes were hanging off him, shorts coming past his knees and sleeves nearly to his elbows. He wasn’t wearing any shoes and his clothes did not do him any good for this weather.

“Why didn’t you tell me before,” he said, his voice softer than all the previous times he had spoken. “C’mere.”

Tommy practically ran into the arms of his brother. Techno swung his cape off of his shoulders and fastened it around Tommy’s neck, even though it was much too big for a boy his size. Then he sighed and turned around, crouching down and motioning for Tommy to climb onto his back. Tommy eyed him warily for a moment before quickly climbing on. Techno put his arms under the boy’s legs as Tommy wrapped his arms around his neck, carrying him piggy-back style.

“Where’re we goin’?” Tommy asked.

“Home,” Techno responded. “My home, that is.”

“Is it warm?” Tommy asked. Techno nodded.

“Yes, and it’s away from everyone else,” he replied.

“‘Das good, right?” Tommy said, exhaustion from the day’s events finally weighing down on him. “‘Cause I didn’t like that green guy that found me ‘dis morning.”

“Green guy?” Techno asked, side stepping a fallen log as he walked. Tommy yawned.

“Yeah, he was a wrong’un,” he said sleepily. “I was in ‘dis tent thing, and everything outside was blown up. Kinda scary, but I ran away and found you!”

Techno muttered to himself but Tommy was too tired to care. In the warmth of his brother’s arms and cape, with the gentle rhythm of his steps, Tommy felt like he was being rocked to sleep. Like how Phil used to rock him to sleep when he was littler. It was comforting and Tommy couldn’t stop his body from relaxing into his brother’s, letting his head rest on Techno’s shoulder and letting his arms hand loosely around Techno’s neck.

“Tommy you have to hold on or you’ll slide off,” Techno said. Tommy hummed and gripped his arms just a little bit tighter so he wouldn’t slide off. Techno huffed and got a better grip of his legs, determined to keep his brother upright. “Don’t worry, it’ll only take us another few minutes to get back home.”

“Will Da and Wilby be there?” Tommy asked quietly. His brother fell silent and Tommy blinked tiredly.

“You’ll see them eventually.”

That was good enough for Tommy and the two brothers fell silent as they walked across the cold icy forests and plains to get to Techno’s house. Tommy barely registered the fact that they had arrived at Techno’s home until he was enveloped in warm air and set down on a couch. Tommy curled into himself, pulling Techno’s cape tighter around him as let himself drift off to sleep.

He didn’t catch the way his brother stared at him with confused and worried eyes, wondering what had happened to the boy he used to call his brother.


	2. Turtles and Ravens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy receives a present. Techno receives a message.
> 
> TW: None, take the fluff :D

Tommy pulled the shirt over his head, watching as it fell well past his waist and knees. The sleeves were too long and despite the higher collar on the shirt you could still see Tommy’s collarbone and shoulders poking out of the fabric. Techno just pinched the bridge of his nose when Tommy started whacking at the air with his sleeve, a grin plastered on his face as he smiled at the silliness of the situation.

“You’re gonna need new clothes,” Techno said, mostly thinking aloud to himself. Tommy just rolled his eyes.

“No duh,” Tommy said. “It doesn’t take a genius to know that.”

It had been an hour or so since Tommy had woken up. The first thing he did was eat the food Techno had given to him. He was so exhausted from the events of yesterday that he didn’t even hear his brother moving about in his kitchen as he prepared food. He was grateful to have something in his stomach, being absolutely starving after not eating anything yesterday.

The second thing he did was take a bath, at Techno’s insistence. Tommy had protested but the boy was covered head to toe in dirt and ash so he didn’t have a valid argument. Techno had to change the water in his bath two times because of all the dirt that had washed off of him. It was nasty and even if he hated the feeling of his wet hair clinging to his neck Tommy was glad he took a bath in the end.

After taking a bath it was clear that Tommy couldn’t wear the clothes he was wearing yesterday. They were just too dirty, let alone ragged. So Techno spent the next fifteen minutes searching for something that could fit the boy, coming back with what Tommy thinks was one of Phil’s shirts, along with clean underwear and socks. They were all too big, I mean Phil was a good foot taller than Tommy, Techno even taller. So Techno wasted no time in retrieving his sewing kit after having watched Tommy play with his too long sleeves. He seemed to be more than ready to alter some of his old clothes so Tommy could wear them.

But for now, he would have to wear a shirt that looked like a dress on him. The worst part was that he had no pants, everything just being too big. Tommy didn’t mind as much as he thought he would, but it was a little awkward. He looked rather silly, with socks almost coming up to his knees and a shirt that fell past them.

“I still can’t get over the fact that you shrunk,” Techno said as he cut up one of his shirts, other articles of soon-to-be-altered clothing laying out on the kitchen table in front of him with his sewing kit. Tommy sat in the seat across from his brother and frowned.

“I told you that I didn’t  _ shrink _ ,” he said, trying to convince his brother. “If anything you grew even taller!”

Techno paused in his mending to look at his brother. The skull mask had been discarded, resting on the mantle above the fireplace on the other side of the room for the time being. Warm brown eyes looked into sky blue ones, neither looking away. Tommy didn't know how to feel when Techno looked away first.

“Last night you said that you think that you’re what, eight?” Techno asked. Tommy nodded vigorously. Techno bit his lip, tusks poking at his skin. “Tommy, what’s the last thing that you remember?”

Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but found himself faltering. What was the last thing that he remembered? He knew that he should be living on the cottage farm with his family. Wilbur was making songs and Techno was supposed to be doing training for his upcoming tournament, the first one that was more than a few days' travel away from home. And Phil was thinking about traveling again soon, now that his boys could take care of themselves on their own.

But was that all recent? Did Techno already go to his tournament? Did Wilbur finish his latest song? Was Phil already traveling? Was it supposed to be spring or summer? It felt too cold to be either of those seasons, even being up north in this icy biome. And he could have sworn that his eighth birthday was only a few months ago.

“I- I dunno,” Tommy answered honestly. “My brain is all messed up ‘nd shit. It’s all fuzzy and smushed together.”

“Do you know the date?” Techno asked him. Tommy shook his head. “Well, if I remember correctly, it’s what, the twenty-seventh of December?”

“I MISSED CHRISTMAS?!” Tommy shouted, jumping in his seat and slapping his hands on the table, knocking over a spool of thread. “That’s so unfair!”

“You’ll survive,” Techno said calmly. “If you find something around the house that you want, just keep it or something. As long as it’s not a weapon or something edible, including potions. You don’t need to be getting into that stuff, especially when you say that you're, um, eight.”

Tommy immediately jumped to his feet and ran to rummage through his brother’s chests, or at least the ones he could reach and unlock. Techno just sighed and continued to alter his old clothes for Tommy. The two spent the next couple of hours in silence, with the occasional shout when Tommy would knock something over that was not meant to be knocked over.

Close to the time Tommy assumed would be a good time for lunch he found something in one of Techno’s chests that he wanted to keep. A turtle helmet, with shiny  _ Unbreaking III _ and  _ Respiration III _ and  _ Mending _ enchants. He took it into his hands and smiled at the shiny helmet. He slammed the lid to the chest shut before he ran back to his brother.

The sewing stuff was still out on the table, but Techno was standing in the kitchen, slicing up some bread, chicken, and apples for lunch.

“Techie!” Tommy exclaimed happily as he ran up to his brother. “I want to keep this!”

He held up the turtle helmet for his brother to see, grinning brightly at him. Techno blinked and shook his head as he smiled.

“Yeah, that won’t get you killed so I don’t see why not,” he said as he made himself and Tommy a plate of food. “It should do the opposite actually, good choice.”

Techno brought their plates to the table, carefully moving aside some of the clothes so they didn’t get food on them. Tommy smiled as he put the blocky turtle helmet on his head before climbing onto a seat and bringing one of the plates closer to him.

“One more thing Tommy,” Techno said, opening one of the chests that Tommy couldn’t reach. One glimpse instead and Tommy could see the riches that laid in the chest. He bounced in his seat when Techno pulled out something from the chest and set it on the table in front of him.

“You like discs, right?” Techno said. “You can have this one. Knowing me I probably have another copy lying around in a chest, collecting dust.”

The disc had a light blue ring around the middle, and even though Tommy couldn’t remember what disc it was he still picked it up and clutched it tightly to his chest.

“I can keep it, really?” he asked, looking at his brother with wide eyes. Techno nodded and smiled to himself when he watched Tommy get up and cross the room to open his enderchest. Tommy’s jaw dropped when he saw the contents inside.

“Oh my Ender,” he said excitedly. “When did I get all of these discs?”

He laughed to himself as he pulled out all the discs lying in his enderchest. He ignored the books and pictures that laid in there as well, not recognizing any of the items. He shuffled through each disc, disappointed when he couldn't find  _ Cat _ or  _ Mellohi _ , two of his favorite discs. Oh well, he’d just have to collect them some other time, or force Techno to do it for him.

As he carefully sat the discs in a neat stack in his enderchest, Tommy spotted a shiny circular object that he didn’t recognize. He curiously pulled it out of the pile of books and pictures, holding the object in his hands.

It was a compass. The red needle was mostly still, every now and then moving slightly to the side, facing south opposed to north. Tommy inspected the shiny compass, finding a weird engraving on the side of it.  _ Your Tubbo _ it read. Confused he turned to his brother, who was watching him with a curious look.

“Who the fuck is Tubbo?” Tommy asked.

⟲ ○ ◯ ○ ⟳

It had been a few days since Tommy had arrived at Techno’s house after running from the seaside plain with the exploded land and the green man that was there. He had fixed clothes now, shirts altered to be tunics and leggings cut and adjusted so they were actual pants. Techno had even given him a cape of his own, a much more comfortable size. It didn’t stop him from stealing his brother’s cape every now and then, taking it to snuggled up on the couch before Techno carried him to the room Tommy now called his own.

It was strange, living out here all alone. Tommy would have been used to it if it weren’t for the lack of his dad and Wilbur. Whenever Tommy would ask Techno about them he’d brush his questions away. He wondered why.

He asked him other questions of course. Asked him why he wore blue instead of red. (Apparently it was for the winter aesthetic and something called the Antarctic Empire). He asked Techno about the green guy, wondering if he knew him or was gonna beat him up for kidnapping him. (Techno didn’t like talking about the green man, and would brush off the questions just like how he brushed off the ones about the rest of their family). He asked if he knew about the Tubbo person. (Techno didn’t like talking about the Tubbo person either, and he never even bothered to confirm that it was a person. Maybe it was a dog, or a building. Either way, it was something of his that Techno didn’t want to talk about). He also asked Techno about the fact that he was eight and Techno was now twenty-four. (For that, there was no answer. Tommy didn’t like to admit that this scared him a bit. Was he in the future? Would he come across another Tommy? Or did someone rewrite his code? His dad said that people with rewritten code had better chances of getting Voided when they died. The Void wasn’t something you were supposed to be afraid of, but everyone was.)

He’d just have to get more answers later.

But now they stood together as Techno collected scutes or whatever from the turtle farm he had supposedly built with their dad. They had already checked on the honey farm with the bees, and Tommy had finished the indoor chores that Techno made him do. After this task they were going to go to the village that was a couple miles away. Tommy wondered if he was going to get to ride on Carl, Techno’s horse. He was a nice horse and Tommy liked to feed him carrots, even though Techno said that doing so would make the horse go soft. Techno was stupid though. Carl was as soft as Bob the cow, and both of them loved Tommy.

As Techno stepped back from his farm and handed off the scutes to Tommy he looked up into the sky, squinting slightly. Maybe his hybrid ears picked up the sound of something that Tommy couldn’t hear. Stupid human genetics or whatever they were called.

“Let’s go back to the house Tommy,” Techno said, climbing up the small hill that protected the pond the turtles lived in. Tommy scampered after him, clutching the damp bag of scute to his chest as he followed his brother. They walked up to the house and Tommy stared in confusion when he saw a black bird sitting quietly on the railing of Techno’s porch. Techno seemed distressed as he walked up to the bird.

“Why’s there a bird?” Tommy asked, climbing up the stairs after Techno.

“It’s a raven,” Techno said with a frown. “Phil sends me messages with them. Usually urgent messages.”

“Why not use a communicator?” Tommy asked.

“Comms can be hacked and taken away,” Techno explained. “The only way for people to get a hand on messages like these is if they shot the bird out of the sky. And for that they’d have to know it’s a messenger bird.”

Tommy watched with curious eyes as Techno untied a small piece of paper from the raven’s leg, unrolling the message. Even with the mask on his face, Tommy could see his face fall and turn whiter than it was before. His hands shook slightly and he crumpled the paper in his fist.

“We have to get inside,” Techno said in a rush. His voice sounded deeper than usual and he practically dragged Tommy inside, despite his protests. Techno left the small piece of paper on the table as he began to pull things from his chests and charge up his brewing stands. Tommy watched with nervous and confused eyes as his brother ran around the house, preparing for something that he couldn’t understand. His eyes fell on the abandoned piece of paper on the kitchen table. His feet were moving across the floor before he could even register what he was doing. Tommy’s curious hands grabbed the slip of paper and he lifted it up to read the message.

_ They know where you are. They’re coming for you. Prepare yourself and stay safe. - Phil _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys i wanted clout but there are already almost a 1000 hits wtf is this  
> btw this is one of the softest chapters i've written so far (and i've written 4 and a bit of chapter 5) so be prepared for next time


	3. Achilles' Heel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno prepares for battle. Tommy gets dragged along.
> 
> TW: Violence, Hostage Situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo hoo we getting into the angst now dearest readers
> 
> Just a note: most of the TW might have spoilers for the chapters ahead. Obviously with some DSMP events you already know what's gonna happen next in this story, even if it's not canon compliant I still gotta keep some of the original DSMP plot. So just a fair warning that TWs hold spoilers, but I want to keep them up because I don't want to hurt any of my readers. Not like it spoils everything anyway...

“I don’t understand what’s going on!”

Tommy sat on the couch as he watched his brother move quickly around the room, arms hanging off the back of the couch as he leaned his chest on the cushions. Techno was barely managing to stay still for more than a minute. He was pulling out different weapons and setting them on the kitchen table before he left them as he went to pull out potion ingredients to brew different potions. Then he would keep fixing the straps of his already perfectly strapped on armor as he glanced out the window nervously. All he was met with was afternoon sun and glistening snow.

“You don’t need to understand Tommy, you need to stay safe,” Techno replied coolly, his gaze once again focused on a point out the window.

“But who’s coming after you!?” Tommy asked, begging for answers. “Are they dangerous? When are they coming? Is Dad okay, Wilbur? Are you going to be okay?”

“Tommy do I look like I know the answers to all your questions?” Techno snapped, turning on his younger brother. Tommy flinched back and for a second instead of Techno he saw the green man with his crude mask, smiling down at him viciously. He wondered why, he only met the green man once. But something inside him felt crushed and Tommy sat down on the back on his legs, looking away from his brother.

“‘M sorry,” Tommy said, hugging his arms around himself. Techno sighed and looked back out the window one last time before approaching Tommy, sitting on the arm of the couch beside his brother.

“I’m not mad at you, I’m just worried,” Techno said, reaching out to ruffle Tommy’s hair. “If someone, _anyone_ , approaches you that’s not me or Phil, then you don’t say a _thing_ , about your name, age, or where you came from or why you are staying with me.”

“Why?” Tommy asked, watching his brother pull back his hand, longing to feel the comforting and affectionate touch again.

“Tommy, do you remember the story of Achilles?” Techno asked. Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

“Is that the story about the guy who had to do these challenges cause this god lady didn’t like him?” Tommy asked.

“What, no. That’s Hercules,” Techno said with a light shake of his head, a small smile creeping onto his face. “Anyway, Achilles was a strong warrior, nearly invincible and invulnerable to all injuries. For all but one thing. On the back of his heel was a spot that no matter the injury he could perish to. That’s how he died.”

“What’s this gotta do with me?” Tommy asked, still confused.

“Tommy, you, and Phil and Wilbur, you are my Achilles’ heel,” Techno said. “I’m a strong powerful warrior that never dies, but when it comes to my family, I’m vulnerable. My enemies won’t hesitate to use that against me, exploiting my weakness.”

“I’m your weakness?” Tommy asked. Techno nodded in confirmation. Not really knowing what to do with this information Tommy watched as his brother went back to preparing for the small war he seemed to think that would come upon him.

Techno said they were a day’s worth of traveling away from where Phil was. Tommy didn’t know how long it took for the raven to fly, so he had no idea how much time he had to wait for someone to appear out of the forest, looking for Techno. Potions bubbled and Tommy was a little worried, because he knew it took a few minutes to an hour to get a potion perfect. He didn’t doubt his brother’s skills, even in his haste, but with the amount of potions he was brewing he wondered if he could complete them on time. He wished he knew more, that he could help.

He ignored the voice inside himself that told him he could if he just _remembered._

But remember what?

He shook his head and started to watch from the windows of the upstairs bedroom, Techno’s room opposed to his room and the bathroom on the main floor, to look for signs of people coming. Techno was busy downstairs and Tommy wanted to feel useful. He wouldn’t sit by while his brother readied for battle.

Hours went by, afternoon changed to night, and the sun was rising by the time Tommy finally spotted something in the forest. Techno found him half asleep the night before and told him to sleep. Both of them doubted that Techno’s enemies would attack in the night, but there were no guarantees. Tommy slept and he hoped Techno did too. But now there was no time for sleep in these early hours of the morning. It was around the time Tommy would usually wake, when he saw four figures step out of the forest. He assumed Techno saw them too, because he could hear his loud footsteps begin to pace around the room below him.

Stepping down the ladder, Tommy found Techno re-fastening the straps of his armor across his chest, legs, arms, and elsewhere. He put on his skull mask and crown, and tightened his belt of potions around his waist. His sword was already buckled at his side, a crossbow and quiver of arrows on his back. Tommy knew his brother was a warrior, but he could only remember sixteen-year-old Techno. The older brother who always came back from his tournaments victorious, but not with battle scars. Something over the years had obviously changed. Tommy wondered if Techno was always built for war, he seemed well within his element.

“Tommy, I didn’t have the time to brew you an invisibility potion, so stay out of sight, alright?” Techno said, glancing down at his younger brother.

“What?” Tommy complained. “I want to watch you kick those fuckers asses!”

“I swear to Ender there is not another child in existence with a mouth dirtier than yours,” Techno said with a smile. He ruffled the hair on his brother’s head, chuckling when Tommy hissed at him. “Stay safe, no matter what happens.”

Then Tommy watched him open the door, cold air seeping into the cabin, before he stepped out onto the porch, weapons at the ready. After he closed the door behind him Tommy quickly ran and grabbed his cape, pulling it on, before he ran back to the window. He carefully pulled up the window to peer through the closed shutters that he could barely see through, but he could hear through.

There were four guys standing on Techno’s front lawn, having emerged from the forest. There was a guy, taller than two of his companions but not anywhere near the height of the forth guy. He had ginger hair and fox ears poking through a black hat he was wearing. His fox tail swept aside some snow and he was wearing an apron covered in blood.

The two shorter guys were similar. A guy with a beanie hat that looked nothing like Wilbur’s was standing in the front, arguing with Techno. He shouted words that meant nothing to Tommy, but obviously meant something to Techno, judging by the way he stood still, poised and ready to draw his sword. Beside the beanie guy stood a boy that was around the same height as him, with dark brown hair. Both of them wore bloodied aprons, the brown-haired boy wearing one over a fancy looking suit that looked out of place.

The last guy was super tall and had blotchy white and black skin that reminded Tommy of a cow, even though this guy was obviously not a hybrid of one. He looked nervous and wasn’t wearing a bloodied apron like his companions, just a suit, and he looked very out of his element.

Tommy’s face went white when he saw Techno draw his sword. He immediately went on the offence and lunged at the fox man. Potions laid shattered in the snow and Techno looked terrifying as he attacked. The fox man parried his attacks, and weakly tried to fight back. He was quickly backed up by the boys in the suits. Tommy couldn’t stop himself from poking the shutter open slightly as he watched Techno fight.

As his eyes scanned the mayhem he froze when he saw the beanie guy look towards the house. Tommy ducked quickly, hoping the guy with the beanie hadn’t noticed him. He quickly looked for a hiding spot, just in case. He remembered the barrel that sat near the door and underneath the other window. He ran over to it tossing out the shoes that laid in the bottom of it. They wouldn’t look too out of place if they were by the front door anyway. Then he crawled inside, ignoring the way it felt like the barrel was crushing him, as he held his breath.

Footsteps from outside came closer, too light to be Techno’s. Tommy held his breath and slapped a hand over his mouth. He prayed to the sky gods Wilbur liked to go on about, thinking about prayers that he hoped any gods, even the ones from Techno’s stories, would answer.

With his awful luck his prayers went unanswered when he heard the door to the house open and footsteps came closer.

“Where are you chico?” a young voice asked, sounding mischievous and sinister. “Don’t think I didn’t see you, idiota.”

Tommy tried to control his breathing, but he couldn’t help the scream that ripped from his throat when the lid to the barrel he sat in was lifted off, the beanie man grinning down at him. He grabbed Tommy by his hair and wrenched him from the barrel. Tommy screamed and sobbed.

“Ender, shut the fuck up kid, Techno will hear you!” the beanie guy said, muttering something else in his strange language. Tommy wanted to yell ‘ _that’s the point’_ but didn’t get the chance when the beanie guy pulled out a piece of cloth from his pocket, tying it around his mouth, successfully gagging him. Tommy thrashed about but the eight-year-old couldn’t do much against a guy that could overpower him. His hands were forcefully tied behind his back and Tommy was dragged out of the house, tears streaming down his face. If only he had listened to Techno and hidden himself from the start! Fuck his defiance!

“Techno, Technoblade stop!” the beanie guy shouted, shoving Tommy to the ground and holding a dagger to his throat. “You’re gonna stop fighting and drop your weapons.”

The brown-haired boy’s eyes went wide when he saw Tommy sitting in the snow with a dagger to his throat, nearly dropping the axe that was in his hands.

“Quackity!?” he shouted, forgetting Techno for a moment. His companions went still and Techno slowed when he saw his enemies stop fighting. Tommy whimpered when he watched Techno turn, going still when he saw Tommy.

“Hey, hey now,” Techno said quickly, taking a step towards him. “Quackity let’s talk about this. He’s just a kid, put away the knife.”

“Gone soft for a kid?” the beanie guy, Quackity, laughed. “Here I thought your own sword was called the _Orphan Obliterator_.” His hand in Tommy’s hair gripped tighter and the knife didn’t leave his throat. Tommy felt more tears stream down his cheeks. It hurt, the hand was nothing like the comforting hand that ran through his hair when Techno wanted to show some affection.

“He’s not an orphan,” Techno said. “He’s staying with me until I find his parents for him.”

“That’s a load of bullshit and we both know that Technoblade,” Quackity growled. “I don’t care who the kid is to you, but I swear to Ender if you don’t drop your weapons and empty your pockets _right now_ , I _will_ slit the kid’s throat.”

Techno froze in his tracks, watching Quackity with a careful eye. For a second, everything was quiet. Tommy was frozen still with shock. Techno’s enemies, the three guys who barely looked old enough to be fighting in a battle like this, were also still. Even the raven that Phil had sent yesterday was quiet, watching from its perch on the railing. Quackity’s hand in his hair gripped tighter as he pressed the blade closer to Tommy’s throat, making him whimper when he felt it dig into his skin. Techno stared at the two of them, pausing before he sheathed his sword and held up his hands in surrender.

“Just leave the kid be,” Techno said. “I don’t know how many lives he has.”

“Hand over your weapons Techno, armor too,” Quackity ordered. Tommy watched helplessly as Techno unbuckled his sword belt, letting it fall into the snow. Next came the potions belt, then the crossbow, then the quiver of arrow. He unstrapped his chestplate and let the glowing metal fall to the ground. He carefully took off his arm guards and leg guards, letting them join the pile of other items building up in the snow. 

“Is that everything?” Quackity asked. Techno groaned and flicked his wrist, a knife sliding out and falling to the snow. Quackity stared at him for another few moments before he spoke up again. “Mask and crown as well Techno.” Techno growled but begrudgingly dropped the crown into the snow, the mask following shortly. He took a step back and the tall boy in the suit approached carefully before he took Techno’s items into his arms and ran back. Techno growled at him, some of his piglin traits coming through when he saw his possessions taken away.

“Alright Techno, for the crimes against L’Manburg you’re being taken back for a trial,” the brown-haired boy said, approaching Techno carefully. In his hands he held up a pair of iron handcuffs. Techno hesitated for a moment before holding up his hands in front of him, letting the boy cuff him.

“Just let the kid go,” Techno said, sounding defeated. Quackity smirked and the dagger was pulled away from Tommy’s neck, but the hand in his hair didn’t leave.

“No, we’re taking him with us too,” Quackity said. “To make sure you don’t pull any tricks along the way.”

“I won’t,” Techno swore but Quackity wouldn’t listen. He sharply dragged Tommy to his feet, the hand not leaving his hair. He glared at the brown-haired boy who sheepishly beckoned for Techno to follow him. Behind them trailed the fox man and the tall boy.

Tommy stumbled through the snow, hating the way that he was basically dragged along. He was glad he had pulled on his cape, otherwise he would have froze by now. He could barely keep up with his captors. He was jealous of the way Techno could still hold himself up regally, standing tall above everyone, except the tall boy. It just made Tommy feel small the way he was dragged along. He couldn’t even curse at his captors, because of the stupid gag.

Eventually they reached an icy shore where multiple small rowboats sat in the sand. The brown-haired boy pointed to one that Techno climbed into. Tommy was dragged into one with Quackity, and was seated down harshly on the wooden planks. He whimpered and hated the way that Techno snapped his head to look at him. The rest of his captors got in the last boat, and suddenly they were rowing across the ocean.

“You do know it would have been quicker to travel through the Nether,” Techno commented, staring out into the seemingly endless sea. The brown-haired boy huffed as he rowed, ignoring Techno. “Am I gonna get a lawyer at this trial Mr. President?”

Tommy was surprised to hear the brown-haired boy reply instead of Quackity, the guy who had pulled all the shots up until this point.

“No, you’re not,” the boy said harshly. “You’re already guilty of your crimes.”

“It’s still a trial, guilty or not,” Techno replied coolly. The boy huffed and went back to ignoring him.

“And you are very guilty,” Quackity said smugly.

Tommy decided that he did not like the man with the beanie.

He also cursed himself for being Techno’s Achilles’ heel.


	4. Gunpowder Rains, Blood Stains, Golden Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno dies. Tommy is traumatized.
> 
> TW: Blood/Gore, Violence, Death with Respawn

It was evening when they reached L’Manburg. The winter sun had long since set and lanterns were lit on the docks that they pulled to shore next to. Tommy was hauled from the boat, this time escorted by the fox man. Quackity walked next to the young president as the two of them directed Techno and himself into the town called L’Manburg.

L’Manburg was pretty, with its wooden boardwalks, floating lanterns, and cute houses. But something about the town unsettled Tommy. Maybe it was the faint smell of gunpowder that hung in the air, or the concerning fact that nearly the entire town was built on stilts atop a crater that seemed to have been turned into a lake. Either way, the most unsettling thing about the town was the giant redstone mechanism that stood tall in one of the town’s communal boardwalk courts, wood and redstone stretching into the sky, an anvil hanging dangerously at the top.

Techno paused when he saw the mechanism. Quackity only got him to move when he held a sword to his back, threatening to run him through if he didn’t keep walking. With the president at his side the two L’Manburg leaders shoved Techno into the iron cage beneath the anvil.

“I’m guessing you lied about the trial part,” Techno said dryly. “Too bad, I could have paid a lawyer vast sums of money.”

“Shut the fuck up Technoblade,” Quackity growled. “You get no lawyer. You get no trial. You’re here to pay for the crimes you committed against L’Manburg.”

“By executing a helpless man?” a new voice asked.

Tommy turned and looked up to where the voice had come from. Standing on a balcony, with no railings, was Philza.  _ Dad _ . He had his arms crossed and his wings fluttered on his back, his disappointment evident. There was an iron cuff around his ankle, glowing with enchantments, and Tommy wondered if it bound him to his house since he made no move to swoop in and rescue them. Phil looked over the crowd, staring at each L’Manburg citizen with a look of disgust. He looked worried for Techno, and when his eye’s met Tommy’s, he froze, looking back to Techno. Techno just shook his head and Phil stayed quiet.

“Maybe Techno should have thought twice about executing me then!” the young brown-haired president shouted back at Phil. “I was more helpless than him!”

“You’re forgetting who ordered the execution,” Phil said. “Don’t shoot the messenger Tubbo, or in this case, the executioner. It’s the person who ordered the act that you should be blaming.”

The president, Tubbo,  _ (Tubbo?) _ looked away from Phil, almost looking guilty as he crossed his arms and took a step back. Quackity was glaring up at the older man as the rest of the L’Manburg citizens were quiet. Tommy could feel nervousness coming off of the fox man who held onto his bound hands behind his back.

“Techno needs to learn that there are consequences to his actions!” Quackity shouted. “We can’t let him get away with blowing up L’Manburg!”

“Wilbur blew up L’Manburg,” Techno said. “I spawned two withers.”

“You do realize how dangerous withers are, right Techno?” the fox man spoke up for the first time. “Even with milk withering scars don’t fade quickly.”

Tommy blinked, looking up at the fox man. For the first time he noticed the thin black-grey scars that crawled up the back of his neck, hidden by his hair and hat, not to mention the collar of his jacket. It wasn’t noticeable unless someone pointed it out.

But this didn’t make sense. Why would Wilbur blow up L’Manburg? Sure, Tommy knew nothing about the land, its citizens, or its history, but it was someone’s home. Why would he take that away? Why would Techno spawn withers in someone’s home? Why would he execute Tubbo? Is that why he didn’t like to talk about him?

Tommy had too many questions and he was starting to feel light headed from the sudden flood of information. He was also hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything today, feeling too sick to his stomach to eat anything that morning. And he wasn’t offered any food on their trip across the ocean, even when they paused to take a break. Tommy couldn’t even remember the last time he had a glass of water, the meaningless but necessary task getting lost in the memories of today.

“And I think you’re all a bunch of hypocrites,” another new voice joined in.

As the fox man turned Tommy was dragged along, and he looked up to see a man standing up on one of the seats in the audience. His blue eyes shone and he shook platinum blond hair out of his eyes, his white hood slipping back slightly. In his hand he held a stick of TNT, and in the other he held a trident. His armor looked as strong as Techno’s, the black metal glinting in the lantern light and the purple shine of enchants glowing softly.

“Punz?” Tubbo said aloud, sounding very confused. It didn’t take long for Tommy to figure out that this man was not a friend of L’Manburg and it’s citizens.

“Sorry about this Mr. President,” Punz said in a way that made it sound like he wasn’t sorry at all, which was probably true. He lit the stick of TNT and threw it towards the fox man that held onto Tommy. The fox man yelped and dragged Tommy away from the dangerous explosive. Tommy shrieked through his gag when it went off, the loud explosive making his ears ring momentarily and leaving a hole in the planks of the L’Manburg boardwalk.

Punz jumped into action, swapping the trident for a sword as he threw another piece of TNT down. The tall boy in the suit jumped away this time before chasing after Punz. Techno laughed as he watched the citizens of L’Manburg scramble to catch the blond man who was throwing TNT around like it was candy on Halloween. At one point the fox man let go of Tommy, tying his bound wrists to the arm of one of the benches that faced towards the redstone mechanism.

“You know what, fuck this!” Quackity snapped, running towards the mechanism as his companions chased Punz around. “Punz can’t stop me from getting what I want. I won’t be satisfied until your blood stains the planks of L’Manburg red, Technoblade!”

Tommy screamed through the flimsy drool soaked cloth on his face when he watched Quackity lunge for the lever on the redstone mechanism. Phil shouted something from his perch, wings flaring out, and Techno hunched into himself, something golden glinting in the lantern-light for a moment before it disappeared.

The lever flicked down.

The TNT rained down.

The anvil fell down.

Tommy wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to unsee the sight before him. One moment he was looking into Techno’s scared eyes (Techno wasn’t scared, he wasn’t allowed to be scared, big brothers weren’t scared they were strong, why wasn’t Techno being strong?). The next he was met with the sight of an anvil sunk into a crushed body, blood sprayed across the spruce planks of L’Manburg’s execution court.

Phil screamed and Tommy thinks he was screaming too. His throat hurt so bad and he couldn’t stop crying. He was thrashing on the ground from where he sat, desperate to get to his brother. Technoblade never dies, he never dies, so why wasn’t he getting up?

Then the anvil was toppled over, and a bloodied figure was crawling out from underneath it. Gold and green stained hands clutched the iron bars of the cage as they pulled their body up. Brown eyes looked red and bloodstained pink hair hung loose as the heaving bloodied body of Technoblade stood atop the anvil that had crushed him to death. He looked away from the madness and his eye’s met Tommy’s going soft for a moment before flashing red with anger once more.

Tommy wasn’t sure how his hands got free, but once they did he was on his feet and running to his brother. Techno wasted no time grabbing Tommy and throwing him over his shoulder as he ran away from L’Manburg, escaping through a small hole that opened up to a tunnel. They ran and Tommy choked back sobs as he felt himself be set on the ground once more. He pulled the gag off his face and hiccupped as he huddled into himself.

Techno was rummaging through some chests, picking out abandoned items in his haste. Iron armor was fastened around his body and Techno didn’t even pause to check his wounds. He just downed a pink potion, looking slightly more refreshed. From one of the chests he pulled out an enchanted pickaxe, the netherite tool shimmering in the dark that felt like it was choking Tommy as he panicked.

“Technoblade!” came a voice from down the tunnel. “Come back here you fucking puta!”

Tommy choked and Techno stood up tall, standing protectively in front of his brother as Quackity rounded the corner, a maniacal smile on his face, and an axe gripped in his hand.

“Quackity,” Techno said in a mock greeting. He gripped his pickaxe tighter and Tommy scrambled back, wanting nothing more than to run away from Quackity, who looked like a madman with the way he was grinning and holding that axe. Something about his mad smile was all too familiar, and Tommy couldn't understand _why_.

“Technoblade,” Quackity replied in the same mockingly vile tone. “I did not put all this time and effort into executing you, just for you to  _ live _ .”

“You really thought that  _ you _ could defeat  _ me _ , Quackity? Haven’t you heard my favorite catchphrase?” Techno asked, a smile creeping onto his face. “ _ Technoblade never dies _ .”

When he lunged for Quackity, pickaxe swinging, Tommy couldn’t recognize anything about his brother as the man before him swung at their attacker. In the week they had spent together in his house in the tundra, Tommy found out quickly that Techno was a different person than before. But there were still some recognizable traits. Techno would barely take the time to cut up his food before he brought it to his mouth. He still knew his mythologies as well as he knew how to swing a sword. He was still a neat freak, often spending time cleaning up Tommy’s messes. He would still crack a smile at Tommy’s silly words, stupid jokes, or curses. He was possessive about his items and stashed away gold.

But this man, the one grinning while blood stained his skin and dampened his clothes, begging for the cries that came out of his enemies mouths, this man was unrecognizable.

Tommy didn’t like what he saw.

“ _ I’m going to kill you Technoblade! _ ” Quackity shouted, even as blood poured from his cut skin. Techno just grinned down at the shorter man.

“ _ I have a pickaxe, and I’m going to put it through your teeth! _ ” Techno shouted with no remorse.

Not even a second later Quackity’s head was impaled with the pickaxe, knocking out his teeth, as his body fell to the floor. Tommy blinked and his vision spun as he watched Techno yank the tool-turned-weapon out of the body that was already starting to slowly disappear as it prepared for respawn. He turned back to his brother, eyes red and blood sprayed across his face. Tommy felt his face go pale as he doubled over, vomited, and then promptly passed out.

⟲ ○ ◯ ○ ⟳

Tommy sat in the bathtub, silent and unmoving. Techno sat in the corner of the bathroom on a stool, his head in his hands. His long hair had fallen over his shoulders and shielded his face. Neither of the boys were talking. Neither wanted to speak.

While Tommy was sitting in the bath, surrounded by soap and dirty water that washed away the smell of gunpowder, sea spray, blood, and vomit, Techno looked as if he had taken a bath of his own. A bath of blood and gold.

Techno’s whole arms, both skin and the cotton fabric of his shirt sleeves, were stained gold. His hands were completely stained, with green flecks mixed in on the palms of his hands, if Tommy remembered correctly. Other than the gold he was completely drenched in blood. Not even an inch of him was spared. His hair looked more red than pink, his white shirt had been stained through, and even the soles of his shoes had left trails of bloody footprints in the house. He hadn’t even bothered to take his shoes off, even though they had gotten home a little while ago. Looking at him made Tommy feel sick to his stomach, and the need to vomit never really went away. It didn’t help that everything smelled like blood as well.

The water in the tub was going cold. Tommy shivered and swirled a hand in it, watching as the grime from his skin floated away. It was gross. He studied his hands, his fingers looking like prunes. He bunched them into fists and submerged them in the water once again.

“I’m sorry.”

Tommy looked up. Techno slowly lifted his head out of his hands, staring at him with eyes that had returned to their normal shade of brown, opposed to the angry and greedy red from earlier. Tommy blinked, not daring to speak, as he stared at his brother.

“You shouldn’t have seen that,” Techno went on. “Me dyin’. Me killin’ Quackity. No kid should have to see that.”

“I’m sorry too,” Tommy said, staring down at the sudsy water. “It’s my fault for not hiding right away.”

“No,” Techno agrued. “You’re not allowed to blame yourself for this.”

“But it is my fault!” Tommy exclaimed angrily, slamming his fists into the water, not caring if it flowed over the edge. “I didn’t listen to you like you asked! I got you killed!”

“Tommy,” Techno said in a soothing tone. “It’s my fault for thinkin’ you’d listen to me. It’s my fault for not findin’ you a hidin’ place beforehand and ensurin’ your safety before I went to go fight. And you didn’t get me killed, L’Manburg did.”

“But, but,” Tommy tried to argue, hiccupping when he felt tears prick at his eyes. “I’m your stupid Achilles’ heel, and I got you hurt.”

“You may be my Achilles’ heel, but it’s my job to protect you,” Techno said softly. “And I failed. And I will learn from my mistakes.”

Tommy hiccupped and shivered again, the cold water lapping at his skin. Techno stood and moved to sit on the floor next to the tub. He reached out and ran a gold stained hand through Tommy’s hair. Tommy couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the touch, not like he would have stopped himself anyway. It was soothing, oh so soothing, and nothing like the harsh grip of Quackity’s hand in his hair from earlier today. Tommy didn’t realize he was crying again until Techno shushed him and hummed softly.

“No one will hurt you again,” he said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Promise?” Tommy squeaked. Techno smiled and nodded his head.

“Promise.”

It took them a little while to be productive once again. The two boys wanted nothing more than to forget the events of the day and go to sleep. Eventually Techno got up and drained the tub before leaving the room. Tommy sat in it as it refilled itself while Techno was in the other room, probably trying to wash some of the blood and gold off of his skin. When he returned Tommy was still in the bath, running a washcloth over his skin, wiping away any remnants of the terrible acts from earlier. Techno’s hands were mostly free of blood and gold, and he had changed his clothes. He was going to still need a bath after Tommy was done, that was for sure.

Tommy watched him with a hesitant eye before he decided to speak up.

“Can you, uh,” he said, hesitating again. Techno looked at him softly and Tommy swallowed. “Can you wash my hair?”

Techno nodded and kneeled besides the tub. Tommy’s hair was already wet so Techno just poured some soap on his hands before he ran them through Tommy’s hair, carefully pulling at knots while he massaged Tommy’s scalp.

“Phil used to do this, didn’t he?”

Tommy nodded, swirling his hand in the bathtub’s water while Techno washed his hair. Techno was humming softly, a comforting tune that Tommy couldn’t place.

“Your hair’s getting long,” Techno commented. “It’s curly, but when it’s wet it’s nearly down to your shoulders.”

“I don’t want to cut it,” Tommy blurted, even though Techno never even brought it up. Techno’s hands paused for a moment, before they untangled themselves from Tommy’s hair. Tommy looked over and watched as Techno grabbed the bucket of warm water they had beside the tub, smiling to himself.

“That’s fine,” Techno said, the soft smile still lingering on his face. “We don’t need to cut it.”

Tommy smiled at him before shrieking when Techno dumped the water over his head. Techno laughed as he spluttered, only laughing louder when Tommy cursed at him and splashed him with water.

It felt nice, doing something so playful and domestic after they were taken hostage and one of them was executed.

It helped him forget about all the bad things that happened that day.

⟲ ○ ◯ ○ ⟳

Tubbo didn’t know what to do.

Logstedshire was gone. Completely destroyed. Utterly obliterated. Synonym synonym.

When he first stepped through the portal he saw open fields of tall grass, gently bending in the breeze as the moon shone overhead. It looked lovely, and reminded Tubbo of a time before he was president, before the wars. Back when him and Tommy were young and carefree and spent the days together without having to care about completing a job or someone sneaking up on them with malicious intent.

He blinked and then he saw the craters, and his cheerful mood dissipated almost immediately. The craters had scattered rocks around them and the smell of gunpowder hung faintly in the air. These were holes too uniform to be caused by a creeper. Not to mention that there were dozens of them, spread across the landscape. And when Tubbo looked to the side he realized that he had come through a new portal, the old one barely managing to hold itself up, the obsidian frame collapsing on one side.

Just past the broken portal was a tent, stained with soot and ocean spray. Holes were scattered across the fabric, and part of it was torn completely off, exposing the inside of the tent. It looked worse for wear and there was no sign of its occupant.

Tubbo gulped and took a few steps forward, feeling anxious and exposed. There were no lights lit, nothing to keep mobs away or to shine a light on them as they appeared through the trees. The moon did a pretty decent job of lighting up the place, but it still looked desolate, abandoned.

As he turned around he was met with the sparkling water of the ocean, the only thing strong enough to compete with the smell of gunpowder. There was a beach where chairs and an old blanket lay scattered about, like someone had thrown it together in a hurry. Or tried to take it down. Along the shore was another tent, lying flat on the ground, probably knocked over by the ocean tide.

Down the path there was a wooden wall, more than half of it blown out, wood laying on the ground as it began to rot. That was where the largest crater was. A couple of half-blown up chests and barrels near the least blown up side of the wall had things spilling out of them, cobblestone, wood, some now useless tools. Exposed rock and ore was unearthed, and more rock was tossed aside at the edge of the crater, blown up into the air during the blast only to fall back to the earth.

“Surely, surely not,” Tubbo said to himself as he approached the edge of the crater. The blast was old, and most of the ash had been washed away. While it still stunk of gunpowder the scent was fading, there was no doubt about that. Tubbo wondered how long ago this blast had happened.

He stood still as the moon disappeared behind clouds. He didn’t move even when rain began to fall from the sky. He didn’t shiver when his clothes became drenched with water and his hair clung to his forehead and neck.

He wondered where Tommy had gone. He wondered if Tommy had survived. He wondered what had happened to the boy that he used to call his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: They are brothers your honor. It's family bonding time. And angst time...
> 
> Could you tell that this is my favorite chapter I've written so far? :D  
> Did you enjoy it?  
> I can't wait to read all the comments and sit here cackling as you guys try to put into words what you are feeling after you just read this. Ehehe. #noregrets >:)


	5. Kind Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy is annoyed. Ranboo is friendly. Techno is wary.
> 
> TW: None! Fluff! Kinda!

Techno was building a barn. Or well, he built a barn, he had just finished up the last few details when Tommy decided to approach him. It was early morning and Tommy side stepped around the chickens that were wandering around on the barn floor. Techno was bringing things in and out of the barn but for now he was inside, picking apart a hay bale as he tossed hay into one of the few stalls he’d created.

It had been a couple of days since their ‘kidnapping.’ That’s what Tommy liked to call it. Techno said it was more of a hostage situation since they were threatened out of their home and taken away before going free. Tommy didn’t get the difference, and honestly, he didn’t care either.

“What’s the barn for?” Tommy asked as he watched Techno toss some hay into one of the stalls.

“Carl,” Techno replied easily. “And Bob. I’ve been meaning to get her some companions. Plus now I know that the chickens can roam free without freezin’ to death. Their coup’s attached to the barn.” He pointed to the other side of the barn, Tommy only glancing over for a second before his eyes went back to watch his brother. “And I left another horse back at Pogtopia, I’ve been meaning to bring him over for a while now, just didn’t have anywhere to put him.”

“What’s Pogtopia?” Tommy asked, kicking at some of the dirt and hay on the ground, careful not to send his shoe flying. There were some limitations to living out in the middle of the icy tundra, and even though Techno managed to trade some emeralds with a villager to get Tommy some shoes, they still didn’t fit perfectly. But on the bright side there was plenty of room for him to wear multiple pairs of socks if he took the time to put them on, keeping his feet warmer.

Techno paused, and Tommy broke free from his thoughts to watch his brother’s reaction to his question. Tommy watched him carefully as he went back to tossing hay in another stall. He frowned and stopped kicking at the ground, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“It’s not important,” Techno said, all but ignoring Tommy. “Don’t worry about it.”

Don’t worry about it _my ass_. Yeah right, that was just pure bullshit. Techno always did this when he talked about something that happened during the past eight years he couldn’t remember. Like when he asked about Wilbur, or Tubbo, or L’Manburg. When he asked about anything, really, that wasn’t along the lines of ‘do we have any good snacks’ or something stupid like that.

It was something important and it pissed him off that Techno didn’t trust him with information that he should already have. It wasn’t his fault that he lost eight years of memory (and apparently over a foot of height). He wasn’t a fragile kid, especially if he was supposed to be sixteen. Sixteen year olds weren’t kids. And if he could handle watching his brother get murdered he could handle whatever happened in ‘Pogtopia’ or whatever.

Tommy just had to ignore the fact that every time he saw Techno out of the corner of his eye, or every time he saw him in his dreams, he was drenched in blood, body broken and bruised, with golden hands gripping that pickaxe.

It was just his mind playing tricks on him, it wasn’t real he knew that. It didn’t mean that it didn’t frighten him, making him wake up at random times in the night, or jump as he saw Techno approach out of the corner of his eye.

“If you’re gonna get more animals, can I get a dog?” Tommy asked, deciding to ignore the fact that Techno had brushed off conversation about Pogtopia.

Techno chuckled, brushing dirt and hay off his hands, turning to smile at his brother.

“Sure, we can build a hound army,” Techno answered. Tommy rolled his eyes, a playful smile on his face.

“As long as I get a dog and get to name it.”

“As long as you don’t name it L’Dog or Pog Dog then I don’t see the problem,” Techno replied. “It can sleep in the barn.”

“ _L’Dog_ is a _la’stupid_ name,” Tommy said with a grin. Techno laughed, throwing his head back and his ponytail swinging slightly as he wheezed ever so slightly.

“Don’t tell that to Wilbur,” Techno joked, walking over and ruffling Tommy’s hair as he walked past him. “That’s something that he’d name a dog.”

“That’s why Wilbur is stupid,” Tommy chirped as he followed Techno out of the barn, a bounce in his step as he chatted with his brother.

⟲ ○ ◯ ○ ⟳

It was mid afternoon when the two brothers heard a knock on their front door. Tommy looked up from the book he was reading (not that it was that interesting anyway) and Techno set down the armor he was fixing up. He grabbed his pickaxe, which he had named _Toothpick_ , and rested it on his shoulder as he went to open the door. 

On the front porch stood the tall boy from a few days ago, suit as sharp as ever and a tiny gold crown peeking out of the locks of his black and white hair.

“What do you want,” Techno growled. The boy shifted nervously on his feet, looking down at his shoes, fiddling with his hands.

“Uh, Philza, he uh asked me to uh, escort Ghostbur to your house,” the boy stuttered. “He was afraid um, afraid that he’d get lost on his way here.”

“So, where’s Ghostbur?” Techno asked, gripping the handle of his axe tighter. Tommy watched cautiously from the couch as the tall boy sighed and pointed towards the area where Techno had built his barn.

“He saw the barn and got excited,” the boy explained. “He had to leave his sheep in L’Manburg.”

“So, you’ve done your job, now leave,” Techno said, brandishing his pickaxe. The boy gulped.

“I wanted to apologize and I came by to give you something actually,” the boy said quickly, before Techno could shoo him away. “But I need access to an enderchest.”

Techno eyed him warily, not letting go of his grip on the pickaxe. The boy lifted his hands in surrender, and despite the cold he looked as if he was sweating because of how nervous he was.

“I promise I won’t hurt you, or the kid,” the boy said, glancing at Tommy before his eyes flicked back to stare at the pickaxe in Techno’s hand. “I, Ranboo, swear it.”

“Just let him in Techno,” Tommy said, his curiosity piquing. “It’s cold outside and he doesn’t even have a proper coat.”

The boy, Ranboo he said, smiled weakly at Tommy. “I’m actually immune to temperature.”

“How’s that?” Techno said, stepping to the side to let Ranboo duck into the house, barely fitting under the doorframe. He watched him carefully, looking the boy up and down to see if the boy would go back on his promise.

“Enderman genetics,” Ranboo said, sounding nervous. “My uh, kin, we can naturally be found in all dimensions. So the cold, it’s, _familiar_ , almost. Reminds me of a home I can’t remember.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. Now that he was closer he could observe Ranboo better. The tall boy, even though he sometimes walked around hunched slightly, was definitely taller than your average human. Not quite as tall as an Enderman, but tall. He also had two different colored eyes, one green and one red, both shining with unhuman vibrancy. Patches of his skin were the same shade of black as an Enderman’s, and the other half was a pasty white. His limbs were lanky and long, and even wearing his gloves you could tell that his fingers were longer than natural, almost claw-like.

“So, you said you had something for me, _Ranboo_?” Techno mentioned. The boy’s eyes widened and he stood up straighter, nodding his head.

“Yeah, yeah I do!” he said. He walked over to the enderchest near Tommy, Techno watching him carefully, never loosening his grip on his pickaxe. As Ranboo rummaged through his enderchest he began to talk.

“Sorry about the whole, uh, Butcher Army thing,” Ranboo said, beginning to ramble as he sorted the items in his enderchest. “I think it was Quackity’s idea, with Tubbo’s approval, and I sure as heck didn’t want to come along. They dragged me along anyway, cause I’m their ‘minutes man’ and I heard all the plans in their meeting so they didn’t want me telling anyone about their plans.”

“Butcher Army?” Techno repeated. Ranboo nodded and pulled something from his enderchest, lifting it up to present to Techno.

“Yeah, they trusted me with keeping some of your stuff,” Ranoo said. “But I felt really bad about keeping this because I know how annoying hybrid traits can be.”

In Ranboo’s hand was Techno’s golden crown, the blue, red, and green gems still shining bright in the light. The gold was just as well kept as before, looking freshly polished as well. Techno stared at it for a moment before he slowly reached out and took it from Ranboo’s hand, inspecting it carefully. Then he set it on his head, not bothering to straighten it, just letting the familiar weight comfort him.

“Got anything else of mine?” Techno asked. Ranboo nodded and pulled out the skull mask as well, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he held it out.

“I’ll probably get in trouble for giving this back as stuff, but I can just pretend I lost it or misplaced it and forgot where I put it,” Ranboo said. “Memory loss sucks but there’s the occasional bright side to it.”

“I got memory loss too,” Tommy blurted. Ranboo blinked in surprise and Techno, now holding onto his skull mask, stared sharply at Tommy. Tommy grinned sheepishly and sunk into the couch cushions. “It’s just fuzzy,” he said. “Just missed a couple months or something.”

“Oh,” Ranboo said, fiddling with his fingers. “I got random short term memory loss. Except that I can’t remember anything before coming into this world.”

“I hope you get your memories back,” Tommy said. Ranboo offered him a small smile.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Ranboo said, sounding sad. “Even if I don’t believe it. I hope you get yours back as well.”

Techno shifted on his feet and Ranboo stood, shutting the lid of his enderchest closed. He took a step back, inching closer to the door, as Techno watched him.

“It’s time for you to leave, isn’t it?” Techno said.

“Yeah, probably,” Ranboo replied. Techno swung his pickaxe down and off his shoulder, making the tall boy jump.

“Aw, he can’t stay around for a little longer?” Tommy pouted, having enjoyed the tall boy’s company so far. He was easy to talk to and something about him seemed familiar. Maybe it was just because of how friendly and kind he was.

Techno just turned to Tommy and shook his head, fixing him with a glare before he turned back to Ranboo. Tommy glared at Techno’s back, crossing his arms and slumping into the couch.

“I don’t want to see you back here,” Techno threatened, giving his pickaxe a swing. “I’m probably less likely to kill you on sight, but if you pose any ill intentions towards me and my companions then I won’t hesitate to cut you down. Understand?”

Ranboo nodded frantically and all but ran to the front door. He paused for a moment, resting his hand on the handle of the door. He turned back to look at Techno.

“I almost forgot, but Ghostbur’s got your armor in his enderchest,” Ranboo said. “I couldn’t fit it in mine. And you didn’t hear this from me.”

Techno smiled, making Ranboo relax just slightly. “Thanks. Now go home. There’s a nether portal west of here if you want to use that to get home. Just don’t tell anyone where you came from.”

Ranboo nodded in thanks and opened the door, all but running down the steps and off into the tundra. Techno watched him disappear into the distance and Tommy watched him stand in the doorway, frowning at his brother from where he sat on the couch.

“Why couldn’t he stay longer?” Tommy asked. “He was kind.”

Techno leaned in the doorway, arms crossed and pickaxe hanging loosely from his hand. His eyes didn’t leave the direction from where he watched Ranboo disappear into the distance. He was silent for a few moments, and Tommy shivered on the couch, waiting for an answer.

“Kindness is one of the greatest ways to manipulate someone if played out correctly,” Techno said quietly.

Tommy fell silent.

⟲ ○ ◯ ○ ⟳

Techno was off to go retrieve Ghostbur. Tommy had no idea who Ghostbur was, but if they were an actual ghost he definitely had a lot of questions for them. He wanted to go with Techno to find them but he told him to stay inside, since night had fallen.

With dinner staying warm on the stove and Tommy’s book abandoned on the couch Tommy had decided to practice his new hobby. With Techno always running out of things to keep him busy he had decided to sit him down and teach him how to fix up the spare clothing he had, handing over his sewing kit to the boy. Techno was a hoarder, but not when it came to things like clothing. So when he showed Tommy the patterns and taught him how to properly weave the needle in and out of the fabric Tommy hyper-fixated on the task. He still remembers the surprised look on Techno’s face when he watched him sew.

 _‘It’s like you’ve known how to do this the entire time,’_ he had said.

Tommy did have to admit that it felt like the chore was made for him. His nimble fingers had no trouble with the fabric, and the patterns were easy to copy. Before Techno knew it he had a new shirt to wear. It wasn’t perfect, by no means, but it was a start. Now Tommy was working on creating more clothing. It was easier than trading with villagers, because nothing seemed to fit the boy for Techno. Tommy was too skinny and Techno was too tall and well built for the villager’s clothing.

Not to mention that this entire time Tommy had been wearing socks that came up to his knees, almost. Socks didn’t seem too difficult to make, and while he was focusing on fixing the tears in one of Techno’s capes he was thinking about how he would make himself some nice socks after his current project.

After nearly an hour of Techno being gone and Tommy waiting for him to come back so they could eat (because Techno didn’t like when he messed with the stove, and he wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the pot on it safely) Tommy finally heard the sound of footsteps coming up the porch stairs. Techno’s footsteps. But there were two voices talking.

The door rattled and Tommy sat up in his seat as he watched Techno open the door and let himself in. Behind him followed a strange figure, who hovered slightly off the ground, chatting loudly even though Techno didn’t seem to be listening.

The figure had ash grey skin that was slightly translucent. They cast no shadow and light seemed to just flow through them. Everything about them was grey. They had curly dark grey hair, dark grey pants, grey skin, but hollow white eyes. The only colorful thing about them was the bright yellow sweater that Tommy recognized all too easily. When their eyes landed on Tommy they floated closer, greeting him happily and not noticing the way Tommy seemed frozen in his seat.

“Oh Tommy! You live with Techno now!” the grey figure said happily, his voice echoing slightly. “Now all three of us brothers are together again!”

Tommy shook in his seat, petrified, before he let out an awful scream as he stared at the hollow ghostly figure of his older brother, Wilbur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intend for this to come out this late but I lost wifi connection for the entirety of the weekend and still had a little writing and editing to do for the chapter. Do you guys read through and edit your chapters at least three times like I do? Or is that just me? ...Guess it helps me since I don't have a beta reader, lol.
> 
> This is the last of the daily updates (even though it's been like 6 days since the last update). I hope to get out 1 to 2 chapters a week, but don't hold me to that promise! I'm a busy highschool student taking college level classes! So yeah, gotta do a little planning and write more, get you guys some more content. Huzzahs for me!  
> Thank you so much for sticking with me for this long. Anonymous prompt giver, I hope you are satisfied with this creation that was birthed from your prompt, lol.
> 
> OH! Before I forget I got FANART!!!! IDK HOW BUT I DID!!!! THAT'S STILL CRAZY TO ME!!!!
> 
> [Tiny Tommy and Techno POG](https://captaincatbitches.tumblr.com/post/643116276645036032/hey-did-anybody-see-those-lore-streams-yesterday)
> 
> @swaggybeardbitch I cannot thank you enough I love this so much. <3  
> Idk how tumblr works but show them some love for me ;-;
> 
> If anyone else draws fanart please leave it in the comments so I can see it. I don't expect to see any, I was very very surprised when I first got some, but if you guys do then yeah! Leave it in the comments! Love you all you guys make me so happy whenever I get to read your comments.
> 
> So next chapter,,, angst on the menu am I right? hehe


	6. Why Did I Give Up On Family?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno gets lost in the past. Wilbur reminds him of the present and questions their future.
> 
> TW: Kinda implied Child Neglect? Otherwise nothing. Unless you count angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how this chapter ended up so long.  
> Sorry this took so long to come out! I got really stuck on what I wanted for this chapter. So now we have a rare outside POV for the entire chapter! Enjoy! :D

Techno knows he’s not a good brother. But as a twenty-four year old who’s spent the past year fighting in a war either alongside or against his own family, he could care less. Why bother to fix a mirror with broken pieces when you could get a new one instead?

(He knows how fucked up that analogy is. He tries not to care.)

(He cares.)

It started eight years ago. His tournaments were popping off and he quickly found himself traveling for weeks on end away from home to compete in larger tournaments against more renowned fighters. Phil didn’t quite trust him to go off on his own so he always went with him when they crossed worlds. They’d leave Wilbur home with Tommy. Phil thought Techno’s sixteen-year old twin would be more than capable of watching the eight-year old boy. Techno had no opinion on the matter. In those days his brain was only full of strategies and plans, the voices calling for blood.

(He still had voices that whispered for the comforting embraces of his brothers and the home he left behind.)

At eighteen he left home completely, wishing his ten-year old brother and twin the best, along with his father. He trusted them with Phil, he was their dad after all, he could watch them when Techno was away. His wanderlust and thirst for blood were no longer being pleased with just the tournaments any longer. But the idea of new journeys in new worlds, plans of conquests and plunders, made the voices sing. Who was Techno to ignore them?

Plus, no matter where he was in the universe, knowing that the little cottage in his home world would always stand was enough to comfort him. The cottage that was sandwiched between the vast meadow and flourishing forest. The cottage with the large potato garden and cherry trees planted along the path. The cottage where smoke was always coming out of the chimney and a fire was always in the hearth. The cottage where the sound of guitar strings being plucked was accompanied by the laughter of a child. The cottage that housed the family he loved dearly. The cottage he called home.

He sent letters home, at first. He never stayed in one place long enough to wait for a letter in response. His urge to explore was too strong, even though he wanted to hear from his family.

Techno can’t quite remember when it started, but one day he stopped sending letters. And by the time he actually managed to stay in one place long enough he had moved on from feeling super attached to his family. If they couldn’t bother to even _try_ to contact him by now, then why should he bother?

(Some of the voices tell him that he’s being unfair. In what world would your twin who’s spent the last couple of years practically raising his little brother on his own find the time to try and search for the brother that’s been away from home for so long? He still cares, he just doesn’t have it in him to travel through the universe to search for the brother that left him behind.)

At one point he runs into Phil. It’s been three or four years since he’s left home and the twenty-one year old and his father barely recognized one another. Phil looks good, still looking as young as he was when Techno left. Techno himself has finally grown out of the gangly teenager he was, looking more well built. Built like a warrior.

Techno learns that his father hasn’t been home in years (he had trouble concealing his confused emotions when he sees that his father seems surprised at this fact, like he hadn’t even noticed. He’s always had trouble keeping track of time.) They stick together for a couple weeks, participating in a couple of tournaments and going on a couple of hunting expeditions before parting ways. Techno tells Phil to say hello to his brothers. His father gives him a guilty look and says he will.

(Phil doesn’t say hello to them. He never told Techno that the last time he returned home, just a couple weeks before he ran into Techno, that he found the little cottage to be deserted, a year or two’s worth of dust collecting in all the rooms. Techno catches the guilty look but does not comment on it. He can’t bring himself to care.)

(He cares, he really does. He doesn’t want to admit it. He doesn’t want to admit that he abandoned his family in the pursuit of his own selfish desires.)

(His family is full of selfish people. Phil who forgets the time when out on his adventures. Techno who would abandon his family to quiet the voices in his head and search for his next big conquest. Wilbur who pursues the path of glory and leadership all in order to make a name for himself in a family where he’s easily overshadowed. And Tommy, who only ever wanted his family and friends to stick together despite their conflicts and differences.)

Techno hears from one of his employers about the DreamSMP. A world that a powerful human built with his own hands with help from his friends. A world where hybrids were not discriminated against, but welcomed, as long as the owner of the world deemed them worthy of entry. Some people got free entry, while others had to ask and prove themselves to gain access.

Techno is mildly interested, seeing the owner of the world, Dream, and himself crossed paths years ago in a highly renowned tournament. He even remembers the way a messenger hunted him down to give him Dream’s invitation of the world. But he hides the invitation away and eventually forgets.

Until he learns that his brothers are currently living in that world, and were in trouble.

Despite the fact that he hasn’t bothered to contact them in over four years he feels compelled to go to them now. When he enters the world he tells Dream to fuck off before going to find his brothers. He settles into the underground ravine Tommy named Pogtopia and observes his family as he prepares for war.

He doesn’t recognize Wilbur. He thinks if he had shown up just a few months beforehand then he would have recognized the passionate president that fought in a war in order to build a home for his brother. But this Wilbur is much different from the cheery eyed smiling boy who loved to play songs for his family and the people in the town square.

It hurts to watch Wilbur deteriorate in front of his eyes. He’s seen madness before, he’s come across many mad men and watched them go mad before his eyes. He doesn’t know how to fix it and probably never will, but watching Wilbur spiral hurts. Still, he does nothing to stop Wilbur’s descent into madness.

(That’s a lie. For the first time in years Techno finds himself caring for someone other than himself. Small gestures, like the railings on the stairs that Wilbur eventually tears down, the resources he spends days gathering, the hours he puts into the potato farm to insure his family has at least the bare minimum to survive, the gunpowder he farms to build weapons that he swears he’ll never turn on his already mentally ill brother.)

If Wilbur was unrecognizable then Tommy was entirely different. Wilbur’s still passionate, just about the wrong thing. But Tommy, the spitfire that was the ten-year old boy from years ago, was gone. Gone and replaced with a boy that lost too much and clung to the fragments that he had left. Gone, or at the very least hidden away, because he was forced to grow up too fast.

Tommy’s still fire, crude words, and recklessness. But he’s also lost, silenced, and hesitant from being pushed down. This boy has seen battlefields and sights that no boy should have to see. He’s a soldier first, then a brother, and lastly a child.

(When Techno first arrives he does not realize that Tommy is only fifteen. His sixteenth birthday is spent in that ravine. Wilbur calls him a man for the first time that day, earning a smile from their younger brother. Techno doesn’t see a man, he sees a boy who has lost his childhood innocence and true happiness. He makes no move to give back Tommy the childhood he deserves, instead joining his twin in his path for vengeance and destruction.)

(This is one of his many mistakes.)

When Techno’s firework rocket rips through the chest of Tommy’s best friend, effectively killing the boy (and ironically the two men that ordered the boy’s death) Techno officially loses the title of ‘brother.’

Logically, it makes sense. He should have lost that title years ago. But Tommy still had faith that his stronger older brother, now a figure of legends across the universe. Tommy had believed that he would save that day, effectively saving the family he had left behind. Because he was supposed to care, because they were family.

It hurt Techno to come to the truth of the fact that he had more fun cutting down Wilbur’s enemies then he had playing cards with Tommy in order to distract him from the anxious rambles of their madman of a brother. He was no longer a part of this family, proven by the fact that Tommy had turned his back on him and tried to save Wilbur from himself. But by then it was too late.

Their family was broken into pieces. Their family had begun to break apart the day Techno left home. When Phil followed soon after he created a crack, and when Wilbur finally followed in his twin’s and father’s footsteps that day he had declared himself the villain, he succeeded in finally shattering the illusion that they were still a family. Tommy was the one that held the shattered remains of their family close, not caring if the jagged ends cut into his palms and chest as he held them close. Not caring if he was hurt by the fact that his family was lost, because he could not - would not - accept it.

When the sixteenth came around the voices took control. The scent of blood was too strong in the air for Techno to get a grip of his own consciousness and body. He hardly remembers cutting down their enemies, watching explosions tear up the earth. Or the way that he pointed his crossbow of rockets at Tommy’s friend, the way he told his brother to die, the way he fought with the hellish creatures he spawned instead of against them.

Phil, who had apparently shown up mid-battle in time to stab Wilbur through the heart after he blew up the nation he brought into existence, filled in the gaps of his foggy memory later. Techno didn’t regret any of his actions. Government was one of the reasons Wilbur had corrupted. Government was one of the reasons why Tommy didn’t smile freely anymore.

(Techno knew both of those things were also partially his fault.)

After losing control of himself Techno vowed to stay away from the action for a while. He didn’t want to entirely leave this realm, no. He couldn’t stray too far from his family after being gone for so long. Phil was staying and Tommy was still here. He couldn’t leave, not yet.

So he exiled himself from all lands that had been touched by the other inhabitants of the world. He built himself a little home in the snow, the cold making his mind just a little clearer. He wasn’t going to get involved, not unless Phil was in danger.

He had already lost his brothers.

He wasn’t going to lose his father as well.

(And even when Tommy was exiled and when L’Manburg started to crumble again, this time from the inside, Techno stood by and did nothing.)

⟲ ○ ◯ ○ ⟳

Techno hates to admit that he forgot what his youngest brother looked like when he was little. Maybe he’s being too hard on himself, but a good older brother would be able to recognize their brother anywhere anytime, right? It was a part of being a good family.

(But he was the one that gave up family months ago.)

But when Techno found the blond haired and blue eyed boy stuck in a tree screaming as a skeleton shot at him, all he could think was _‘dear Ender, what villager allowed this brat to go out so late at night?’_

And when that brat of a child yelled at him, clung to him, called him _Techie_ , Techno realized he made a big mistake.

Ender, the kid was not dressed for the heavy snowy winds of the north. He had a ratted shirt that hung on his thin body, shorts that were barely held up by the belt that was too big for his tiny waist, and when the kid pointed out that he didn’t even have _shoes_ , Techno was sure he died a little inside. Not to mention the fact that the clothes were closer to rags than actual clothing.

While it hurt his dignity to carry the boy on his back, piggy-back style of all things, Techno couldn’t deny the fact that the voices were pleased when they saw him carefully tend to the boy.

He was less than pleased with the fact that the voices were louder than usual, and more, _clingy_ , more _worried_.

(Techno couldn’t remember the last time the voices called for him to save a life instead of taking one. He wasn’t sure if they had ever asked that of him.)

Eight-year old Tommy, as he soon found out, was nothing like sixteen-year old Tommy. Techno thought at first that maybe Tommy had shrunk. That theory was quickly shot down when Tommy laughed in his face at the idea of him being eight years older than his appearance suggested. That and all his memories of the past eight years had vanished along with over a foot of his height.

Techno remembers the way he tucked the boy into bed that first night, spending too long looking at the small figure on his couch. While the expression on his face was neutral, inside he was mourning the loss of his childhood memories. He never got to watch the boy grow up completely, and memories of Tommy from when he was little were tainted and too faded to be completely clear. But now, here was the boy that for the past couple of years had only known war and terror. All of that was completely forgotten, for the time being, as Tommy’s eight-year old conscious took control. Techno wasn’t sure how to fix this. He didn’t fix things, he destroyed them.

He didn’t want to be responsible for any more of Tommy’s mental destruction.

Time had passed. It had been nearly two weeks since Tommy’s initial arrival at Techno’s place. He wanted nothing more than to call Phil and hope he could fix everything, but the man’s comm was probably confiscated considering that he was under house arrest and being watched constantly. Damn all of L’Manburg to hell.

Except maybe for Ranboo. He had given back some of Techno’s things after the failed execution.

Cloak over his shoulders and snow crunching under his feet, Techno went to retrieve Ghostbur from his barn. It had been a while since he had seen the ghost of his brother, having only encountered the ghost a few times before. It still startled him, seeing this smiling face of his twin. The twin that had gone mad in that ravine and died to his father’s blade.

(The voices mourned for the brother they lost. They still loved Ghostbur, but like Techno, they knew that this fragment would never truly be their twin. No one could replace Wilbur.)

He found Ghostbur in the barn next to one of the horse's stalls, petting Carl’s head in a curious way, hollowed white eyes open in surprise and awe as he cooed at the animal. Techno almost felt betrayed by the way his warhorse butted his head into Ghostbur’s palm.

“Ghostbur,” Techno greeted his brother. The ghost looked up and grinned happily before half skipping, half floating, over to his brother.

“Techno!” he chirped happily. “I love your horse! And your cow, and the twenty-three chickens. I counted them all! Can I name one? I’m great with names, I named Friend after all. I love Friend, he’s blue and a sheep and he’s just wonderful.”

Techno rolled his eyes as the ghost began to ramble, happily talking about what he assumed was the sheep Ranboo mentioned a while ago. He lets the ghost rant, feeling comforted by his brother’s voice, despite the echo that tainted it. 

“Want to come inside Ghostbur?” he asked. “It’s only goin’ to get colder out, the sun’s setting.”

“I can’t feel the cold!” Ghostbur happily informed his older brother as he followed behind him. “But the snow melts me. Not like water does, but it feels tingly.”

Techno shakes his head and a soft smile tugs on the ends of his lips as he listens to his brother. Sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, he can see the brother that had soft white-pink skin and warm brown eyes and rich brown curls that fell into his eyes. But then the gray returned, sapping nearly all the life out of him.

Ghostbur did not shut up even as they crossed the snow covered lawn that spanned out behind Techno’s house. Not as they climbed up the stairs to his front porch. Not as Techno opened the door and let them inside.

But Ghostbur did go quiet, just for a moment, when his eyes landed on Tommy, white eyes widening in surprise.

“Oh Tommy! You live with Techno now!” Ghostbur chirped as he clapped his hands together. “Now all three of us brothers are together again!”

And when Tommy screamed his lungs out to the point of exhaustion where he paused out on the floor, Techno realized he forgot something very important.

He never told his little brother that Wilbur was dead.

⟲ ○ ◯ ○ ⟳

Since discovering that their younger brother had reversed eight years in age Ghostbur had yet to leave the boy’s side. Techno had explained everything to him (at least everything he knew) after he picked up the boy off the floor and tucked him into bed in the room that used to belong to Phil. He had hoped Tommy would have woken up after he passed out, but if anything he seemed to fall into a deeper sleep after being tucked into bed, blankets and pillows swallowing up his small body. Techno suspected for a while now that there were things wrong with the boy. While his scars were gone, the way he couldn’t stomach a full meal and frequently woke up from nightmares set off red flags in Techno’s mind. Maybe Ghostbur knew this too, and that’s why he refused to leave the boy’s side. That or he was just worried in general.

Techno was just about to turn in for the night when he heard whimpering coming from Tommy’s room. He hesitated for a moment before hovering outside of Tommy’s door, looking through the half open door. Ghostbur was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, holding Tommy in his arms, hushing the boy.

“Wilby?” the boy asked, slurring his words together as tears streamed down his face.

“I’m here Toms, go back to sleep,” Ghostbur responded.

“When I close my eyes I’m back in the dark room,” Tommy cried. “You’re bleeding, and you won’t wake up. Don’t go away Wilby. I don’t want the evil men to get me too.”

“I’m not going anywhere Toms,” Ghostbur said softly. “I’m right here. Your big brother Wilby is right here.”

Techno leaned in the doorway as he watched Ghostbur comfort Tommy back into sleep. His fingers ran through the young boy’s curly hair, massaging his scalp as he rested back into the pillows, blue eyes closing as sleep came over him again. Both of the twins were silent for a while before Ghostbur turned to look at Techno leaning in the doorway.

Brown eyes stared up at him.

“Why did we drag children into war?” Wilbur whispered, tears stinging his face. “Why are children paying the price for our sins?”

Techno stared at his dead twin, for once seeing more than the leftover fragment of Wilbur.

“We sowed the seeds of war yet they are watering the fields with their blood,” Wilbur cried. “I used him. I manipulated him. I lost sight of my goal of caring for him. What have I done?”

Techno looked down at the sleeping face of his baby brother, tears swelling up in his eyes. This was the boy he had abandoned years ago. This was the boy that he had turned on in favor of chaos. This was the brother that he told to die like a hero.

This was the boy, that on a day long forgotten, he had sworn to always protect.

“I don’t know Wilbur,” Techno said softly. “I don’t know.”

(And for once in his life, the voices had nothing to say.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEN DID WE GET OVER 13,000 HITS??? WHERE DID YOU ALL COME FROM??? Either way, thank you so much for all the hits and kudos. ;-;
> 
> HOLY MOLY WE GOT MORE FANART, SCREAM WITH ME ABOUT HOW AWESOME IT IS
> 
> [Thing A Day & Friend on Tumblr with Technobro and Tiny Tommy](https://thingsaday.tumblr.com/post/644042546964774912/i-was-telling-my-friend-about-wanting-to-draw-some)
> 
> [Thing A Day on Tumblr with Doodles from the past chapters](https://thingsaday.tumblr.com/post/644235312580657152/more-fan-art-from-back-in-the-days-of-our-youth-a)
> 
> Both of these were shared by the lovely [bonniedog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonniedog/pseuds/bonniedog) here on Ao3 so be sure to show them some love on both their Tumblr and Ao3. They're an amazing artist <3  
> Thanks again for sharing them with me I love them so much and tell your friend again that I love theirs as well. ;-; <3
> 
> If anyone else makes fanart, be sure to share it with me in the comments! I don't have Tumblr but I do have Instagram, @artsy.lil.pigeon (which I hardly ever use) but if you want to DM me fanart you somehow find for this fic feel free. That's how I can find stuff you guys create. Probably easiest just to leave a link in the comments tho...
> 
> Love you all. Hopefully the next chapter will come out quicker than this one did. <3
> 
> (On a side note, if anyone wants to recommend me Ao3 MCYT Discord servers please do. I'm in one, the writers block, but I'm interested in finding more. Doesn't really matter but if you guys have any recommendations, drop them in the comments.)


	7. Hollowed Mind, Hollowed Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy dreams of things too familiar to be dreams, but what else could they be? Philza's mind wanders while in house arrest.
> 
> TW: Blood and Injury, Mild Violence, Death with Respawn (aka, dream-like flashbacks)

Tommy’s not immune to nightmares. He had nightmares often. Ones where his family would leave him behind like his mother did when he was a toddler, too young to understand what was happening. Ones where bugs would crawl over his skin and the earth would swallow him whole, suffocating him slowly. Ones where he wandered, lost, in a place his brothers and father couldn’t reach - where he’d be alone forever.

But he didn’t use to have nightmares like this.

In every dream he’s had before, he’s in his own body or can see himself. In these dreams he’s in someone else's body. He’s too tall, his hands are too calloused, and he is wearing clothes that do not belong to him. Clothes he never imagined himself wearing. Other dreams had a sense of impossibility, a lack of reality. These ones felt too uncannily familiar, too _real_ , to be nightmares.

The first dream, nightmare, whatever, was blurry. Arrows were falling from the sky, one landing too close for comfort. People around him were shouting. He was confused, but his body felt determined. Someone stepped close to him, put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see the stern face of Wilbur. He felt both relieved and worried to see the face of his elder brother. But Wilbur left his side, walking forward to talk to a figure that was dressed in neon green. Wilbur said something to them and he felt his body move forward to stand behind him.

Tommy was watching as the man pulled out a piece of TnT. The words he were saying were lost to him as he watched the TnT ignite. Then the ground was erupting under his feet. He was falling, falling, falling. Water flooded his senses and his vision faded to black. Panicked, he tried to pull himself up but couldn’t stop sinking.

Water poured out of his ears, and slowly his senses came back to him. Loud footsteps were the first thing he heard, then the sound of hushed whispers. He was still damp, he could feel wet clothes clinging to his skin - which felt strange for a dream.

Then he was walking out of the darkness that previously blinded him. He was in a dark hallway. A tall figure stood in front of him, turning around once to smile at him. Their sunglasses hid their eyes and it made Tommy feel worried, just for a second, before that same determination came back. Determination that felt right, but to the Tommy trapped in this stranger’s body, it felt wrong.

(But it felt like a part of him, and the rightness and wrongness felt as if it was going to tear him apart.)

They entered a room. It was felt small with the amount of people occupying it, and the closeness of the walls felt like it was going to crush him, making it hard to breathe. Someone ran past him to look into a chest, the person feeling vaguely familiar and at the same time not seeming to fit into any of his memories. Tommy’s vision didn’t settle on them too long, too busy taking in the room, eyes resting on a chest with his name before looking at the other people in the small room. Wilbur is there, talking to the tall person with sunglasses. But Tommy’s eyes are on the button sitting in the middle of the room. He goes to press it, but is beaten to the action by the sunglasses person.

The words _“it was never meant to be”_ flowed in and out of his ears as the wall collapsed and four figures stepped out, weapons at the ready. The person with the sunglasses stands still, unharmed, in the middle of the room. Tommy's - or well the stranger's - companions fell to the ground beside him as he stood still, shocked. Fear and panic surged through him but Tommy can’t get this body he’s borrowing to move. The smell of blood was overwhelming and Tommy watched helplessly as Wilbur fell to the floor, a sword having just pierced through his chest. His limp body laid still in a pool of blood that was rapidly expanding. His blank eyes stared at Tommy as he turned to run.

But he’s too late. A grinning mask looks down at him and something cuts through his chest. He gasped and choked, but no air came into his lungs. He gripped his chest and his vision spun, and maybe he was falling and maybe time was at a still. He couldn’t see and everything was swirling.

It spun and spun and Wilbur is in front of him, hands on his shoulders as he stares him dead in the eyes.

 _“I want you to do what your heart tells you to Tommy,”_ Wilbur was saying. He doesn’t understand but he’s also determined. This feels _wrong_. He’s not supposed to be here, not supposed to have a bow in his hands, not supposed to have a life on the line. Whose body is this, what life did he live, why is he in so much danger all the time?

His body works against his mind and Tommy can do nothing when it turns around. A bow is in his hand, an arrow in the other. He’s staring down the green, masked man in front of him. He can do nothing as he raises his bow at the man in front of him. His arrow flies.

He doesn’t even get to see where it lands before pain tore through his body, just as intense as the time he was in that dark room. He’s falling again, water flooding again, and he’s drowning again. He tried to swim up, tried to breath, but nothing was working.

He sunk further, and the darkness swallowed him whole.

Then he’s gasping for air, coming to in a dark room. This doesn’t feel as dangerous as all of the previous nightmares, but the _off_ feeling does not go away as he chokes for air. At least he’s in control of his own body this time, and is actually in his own body.

He’s in the clothes he fell asleep in, forgetting how he had passed out when he saw that- that _thing_ , which looked like his brother. White shirt, brown pants, socks and shoes pulled over his feet. He’s wearing the light blue sweater that Techno gave him as well. The familiarity of these things are the only comforting things in this strange place.

The walls of this place were pitch black, void of color or substance. He only knows that it’s a room because he can run a hand along a wall and find a corner. It was so strange, not being able to see any walls but being able to bump into them. He stumbled and tried to catch his breath, as he leaned against one of the walls. Tommy kept one hand on the wall as he followed it, not knowing what else to do.

It was strange, when he came upon the wall that wasn’t quite a wall, not like the others at least. It was like walking upon a mirror, or glass, where a wall should be. House of mirrors type of shit. But you couldn’t see the barrier at all, you could only feel it. 

And on the other side, was a boy.

He was wearing a tattered white shirt with red sleeves. His undershirt looked like it used to be white, but was more dirted, turning it a tan-yellow color. He only had one shoe and his pants were cut short around the ankles, like the fabric had been torn off. A compass hung around his neck on a chain, the red needle spinning endlessly. Dirty blond hair fell in front of the boy’s dirt and soot stained face. Like the rest of his skin, he looked ashy and dirty. His eyes were closed, and he was leaning against a nonexistent wall in the black void on his side, head tilted up at a very slight angle. He was older than himself, maybe as old as Ranboo, or Tubbo guy.

Tommy couldn’t stop himself from shivering at the sight of the boy. He felt so familiar, but he had never seen this boy before in his life. He knew this. But something was telling him that the answer was on the tip of his tongue.

(Remember, remember, remember, his brain shouts at him, but it's too quiet for him to hear.)

He put a hand up to the barrier, testing to see if he could pass through it. Instead, the barrier shocked him, and he hissed slightly at the sore feeling in his fingers. He stepped back, looking away from the older boy, putting his sore fingers in his mouth.

When he looked back at the boy, grey-blue eyes were staring directly at him. _Hollow_ , grey-blue eyes. Eyes so full of sadness and pain that they forgot any other emotion existed. This boy lacked all emotion but his eyes were so hollow and devoid of feeling that it unsettled Tommy greatly.

He couldn’t help but shriek, jumping away and stepping further back from the barrier. The boy on the other side got up slowly, stumbling to his feet as he approached the barrier between them. He was so skinny, just skin and bones, and struggled to make it very far without collapsing and stumbling over his own feet. Like Tommy did, he touched the barrier and hissed, or at least Tommy assumed he hissed. He couldn’t actually hear the boy. He couldn’t hear anything coming from the boy’s side of this strange place.

To his surprise, despite the pain Tommy felt earlier and knew that the boy on the other side had experienced, the boy pounded on the barrier between them. Tommy stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. He didn’t know who this boy was, he didn’t know why he wanted to break through the barrier. The boy got more and more desperate as he pounded on the invisible barrier, shouting at Tommy even though he couldn’t hear a word he was saying. His hollow grey-blue eyes flashed with anger as the boy shouted and banged on the barrier between them, desperate to get through.

“I can’t hear you!” Tommy shouted at the boy. “Stop it stop it! You’re frightening me!”

The boy paused for a moment, staring wildly at him, eyes wide. He stared and it made Tommy shiver as the boy looked him up and down, hands clenching in fists at his side. Tommy blinked back, baring his teeth at the boy behind the barrier. This only seemed to confuse the boy, as he tilted his head to the side. He banged it against the barrier, continuing to slam another fist into the wall between them, trying to break through. He was so desperate to get through, and Tommy didn’t know why, didn’t understand this boy’s goal. All he knew that it frightened him and he wanted nothing more than for the boy to stop. Yet he continued to try and break the barrier.

Tommy didn’t stay in this strange dream long enough to see if he was successful.

⟲ ○ ◯ ○ ⟳

Waking up was a mistake. Because now a tired Tommy was sitting at the table in the kitchen, watching as Techno cooked them breakfast. Normally, this would seem like a good thing.

Except for the fact that his dead brother sat across from him, smiling, while he stained his fingers with blue dye.

Tommy was not in a good mood. He had woken up more than once in the night because of dreams he couldn’t remember. And when he was tired, he was cranky. Snappier and whinier, bordering between being an asshole and a needy child. He was trying to behave (for the most part) but his stupid dead brother was not helping.

“Techno tells me that you’re little again!” Wilbur - or well, Ghostbur as he preferred to be called - chirped at him. (Ghostbur was such a stupid name, Tommy hated it.) But Ghostbur just fiddled with the blue dye in his hands, not seeming to notice how it was staining his fingers and the cuffs of his bright yellow sweater. “He says you’re eight. That’s silly, because you’re sixteen! But you are small enough to be eight again.”

“I’m not fucking small,” Tommy snapped. “Bitch,” he added on for good measure. Ghostbur just hummed in indifference as he watched Techno set down a plate of food in front of Tommy, setting another one down in front of the spare seat for himself. Ghosts didn’t need food apparently. Too bad for Ghostbur, he guessed.

“Please get along, you two,” Techno said with a sigh. “I do have things to do today, y’know.”

“Nothing’s more important than Tommy Craft,” Tommy said as he stabbed the eggs of his plate, watching the yolk leak out of the center. He grumbled under his breath. He didn’t like runny eggs, never had. But food was food and he was hungry. He didn’t feel like bitching about it anyway, he could find other ways to annoy everyone else later.

Lost in his thoughts about plans to annoy his siblings, Tommy didn’t realize how quiet it was until he looked up into the shocked faces of his confused brothers.

“What?” he blurted, nearly spitting out of the food in his mouth.

“You haven’t called yourself Tommy Craft in years,” Ghostbur said, his echoey voice sounding confused, shocked. Techno nodded in confirmation.

“You call yourself Tommy Innit, amongst other things,” Techno added.

“But Tommy Craft is my name?” Tommy said, sounding uncertain of himself. He dipped his toast into the yolk of his eggs and brought the food to his mouth.

“Well, you haven’t been Tommy Craft in a while,” Ghostbur said confidently. “When we left home I became Wilbur Soot! And you were Tommy Soot for a little while, but you told me that it was a dumb name, so you picked a new one for yourself!”

“Why would we pick new names?” Tommy asked. His stomach rolled and he picked at the food left on his plate. He didn’t really feel like eating any more. “Craft’s a special name cause it’s Dad’s name, yeah?”

“But we didn’t want to be associated with him anymore!” Ghostbur sounded a little too cheerful when he said that, and Techno shot him a dark look. The ghost barely spared him a glance, his hollow white eyes were focused on Tommy alone. “Cause Dad’s an asshole, or at least he can be sometimes.”

“Kinda rude to Dadza,” Tommy grumbled under his breath. “I don’t understand any of this.”

He slammed his utensils on the table and pushed his food away. He frowned and crossed his arms, slouching in his seat.

“Everything this wrong!” he exclaimed. “Wilby’s not supposed to be dead. Techno’s not supposed to be living on his own. And Dad’s not supposed to be trapped in L’Man-whatever.”

“L’Manburg,” Ghostbur corrected easily. Tommy bit back a retort. Techno sighed.

“Tommy, I know things are confusin’, but the sooner you accept things as they are the easier things will be,” he said, pushing Tommy’s plate closer to him again. Tommy pushed it away again and Techno watched him with a sad look in his eye. Ghostbur nodded along, only seeming half invested in the conversation and not paying attention to the battle Tommy and Techno were having with their eyes as Techno looked like he was about to beg him to finish his half-eaten breakfast. Tommy wanted to stab both of them.

Things were so unfair. He woke up this morning expecting last night to be a dream. But instead he had another meltdown before breakfast as Techno explained that during the past eight years Wilbur not only lost one, but all _three_ of his lives. All bloody three of them. And apparently he lost one as well, maybe more? Double unfair.

Then he had to introduce himself to the ghost, had to watch the ghost of his brother float around him and tease him for being short. Had to survive the hugs he gave him as he wrapped his phantom arms around him, even though they nearly passed through him. Had to live with the way that every time he looked at his oldest brother he’d see grey skin and white eyes.

What hurt the most is this was the Wilbur he remembered, more or less. This was the Wilbur that would chase him through the summer fields and call him a gremlin. The one that would rant about his songs and talk about the friends he made in the nearby village. The brother who would yell at him every time he asked about the girl he was talking to and would grab him by the ankles and drag him around the house when he was being a prick.

Whatever Wilbur had existed in the past eight years he didn’t know. But this ghost of Wilbur looked like _his_ Wilbur, and somewhat acted like him too. Teenage Wilbur sang him songs and danced with him and taught him how to read and write his letters and numbers. Sure, this ghost of Wilbur was a little taller and had more memories, but the uncanny similarities between current and past Wilbur were too much for him.

“I don’t want to accept things,” Tommy said, and he hated the way his eyes stung, tears threatening to spill out. “I want things to go back to how they used to be. Where people didn’t try to kill me and you guys and Dad ‘cause of something _you won’t tell me_.”

His two older brothers stared at him silently, giving him pitying looks. He hated that, he didn’t want their pity. He wanted to go back to the cottage on the edge of the forest and the meadow with his family and pretend none of this happened. Or maybe his stupid self could grow up again so he could understand what was going on because no one was telling him anything! It was all just so, so frustrating.

It felt like frustration was the only thing he felt these days and it was a too familiar emotion for the usually carefree and troublesome boy.

“Tommy I can’t tell you that things are gonna go back to normal, your normal,” Techno began. “‘Cause they’re not. That’s the simple truth. But what we can do is try to find out what happened to you so we can fix it.”

“What, Tommy’s shrinking problem?” Ghostbur asked. Tommy was too upset to tease or curse at him like he normally would for getting the facts wrong.

Techno pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh and nodded in confirmation at his twin, not bothering to start a meaningless argument with him. “Yeah, that.”

“So what do we do then?” Tommy asked, sitting up straighter in his seat, but keeping his arms crossed.

“Simple,” Techno replied. “We rescue Phil and work from there.”

Ghostbur let out a surprised - but happy - gasp and immediately began to ramble on about Phil. Tommy drowned out his voice and Techno’s, sinking back into his chair.

Dad, they were going to rescue Dad. He smiled softly to himself as he flexed his fingers in his lap. Something akin to hope grew in his chest as he watched his brothers talk about the promise of bringing their father home.

⟲ ○ ◯ ○ ⟳

Philza watched with a blank expression as he stared through the slightly tinted glass of his home. Newly replaced glass, he can’t help but remember and grumble about. Through the glass he watched Ranboo walk Wil- _Ghostbur’s_ pet sheep around.

It’s raining outside. Rain pattered against the roof and the windows and Phil is glad he took the time to do some repairs before the rainstorm hit. The stupid L’Manburgians broke so many things during their little tour, or well _invasion_ , of his home. Maybe he _is_ a salty old man, but he’s still upset about it.

He has nothing to do in this house. He can sew and mend things, add some enchantments to his tools, but all under the watchful eye from someone of the L’Manburg cabinet - or Ranboo. He spends most of his time digging his basement, partially for the resources and partially to kill time, and the other half of his time staring out the window or sitting on the ledge he can walk out on upstairs.

Ranboo makes for good company and entertainment. The boy isn’t a part of the cabinet, and is only called away to meetings on occasion. And since Ghostbur all but disappeared days ago, the boy has taken up the task of caring for Friend, the abnormally bright blue sheep. He watched the hybrid boy through the window as he held Friend’s leash while it nibbled on some grass.

The poor kid is decked out in rain gear. He holds a black umbrella over his head and is dressed in a black rain jacket with white accents, along with wearing waterproof covers over his already waterproofed and armored shoes. And he still wears his armor under all the gear, also waterproof, so he won’t get wet. Phil doesn’t exactly blame him for wearing his armor all the time, even if it goes against the rules. L’Manburg has a lot of enemies, and it’s not the safest place, so Phil can understand and relate to him in those fields. Plus, he knows why the boy wears his armor constantly in the first place.

Phil still remembers the first time when it rained in L’Manburg when the boy ran into the first house he saw - his by chance. Poor kid was practically soaked through already, having been caught in the rain by accident and not having as much gear as he does now. He still remembers the way he dried the boy, helped wrap up his sparse wounds to keep the scarring at a minimum, and listened to the boy explain how some of his Enderman genetics work.

Since then, they talked regularly, almost on a daily basis. Part of the reason is because the L’Manburg cabinet leaves Ranboo with the task of watching him during his house arrest when the rest of them cannot. But Phil can tell the boy feels bad about his house arrest, since every time he comes over he brings him something. Whether it’s a physical gift or a story, Phil stashes them all away with a smile. It reminds him of simpler times in a cottage sandwiched between a forest and a meadow, with barn animals and large gardens and lawns and fields where laughter could be heard on the daily, and where children whisper their little secrets to one another during late nights huddled up in their room. Simpler times.

Now things were different, very different, and not in a good way.

Phil let out a sigh and his wings ruffled every so slightly as he turned away from the window, finally acknowledging the person who was sitting on the other side of the room. Tubbo had been with him for most of the day. He was more silent than usual. Normally, he’d try to have a conversation, lively banter or silly jokes, trying to get him to smile or talk back to him despite their mild hatred for one another. Phil did a pretty good job of ignoring him most of the time, but today had been easier than usual. The child president probably hadn’t said more than a few words to him all day. He had been sitting in the chair at his table all day, head either resting on the table or looking out the window. Phil didn’t want to ask what was wrong, not when the boy president was his enemy, but his fatherly instincts won over in the end.

“Is everything alright mate?” he asked, turning to face the boy. Tubbo only blinked in response before getting to his feet. Phil watched as he walked over, leaned against the wall, and slid down to the floor. He wrapped his arms around his legs and shrunk into himself, the already small boy only getting smaller. 

“Tubbo?” Phil asked again, crouching beside the boy, now sort of worried for the kid. Tubbo looked up with red rimmed eyes and hiccupped once. Phil blinked in surprise, he hadn’t realized how upset the boy was.

“Am I a bad president Phil?” Tubbo asked, avoiding the question and catching the man off guard. Phil was silent for a moment before he decided to sit beside Tubbo on the floor. He stretched his legs out and was careful not to crush his wings against the wall as he leaned back.

“I don’t think you’re a bad president,” Phil started, choosing his words wisely. “I think you’re- misguided.”

“What do you mean?” Tubbo asked, clutching his legs tighter.

“A boy your age should not be in this position.” Phil pointed out the obvious. “You’re only seventeen. Hell, anyone in this world isn’t a prime choice. And as a child, it’s easier to make mistakes and be swayed to one side because of a threat or another situation.”

“So you’re saying I’m easily manipulated?” Tubbo asked, a dark edge to his voice. Phil sighed and couldn’t help but shrug his shoulders.

“Maybe, I would not be surprised,” he admitted. “I don’t know what happens in your cabinet meetings. Hell, I don’t know what is going on most of the time because I’m holed up in this house!”

Tubbo hummed to himself and relaxed slightly.

“I think I’m a bad president,” he confessed, his voice low. “I never wanted to be president, both me and Tommy,” he choked slightly when he said Tommy’s name, before carrying on. “We wanted Wilbur to be president again. But he had to go and _die_ ‘cause he was crazy, leaving me in charge. And I wasn’t even his first choice, he gave the presidency to Tommy, and he pawned it back to Wilbur before Wilbur handed it off to me!”

“Wilbur made a lot of mistakes,” Phil said. Tubbo sighed.

“Probably not as many as me,” Tubbo said. “Since when did L’Manburg use children as pawns in war?”

Phil knew he was talking about that blond boy from days ago and the way Quackity had used him as a hostage and pawn during Techno’s failed execution. But he could only think about the way Techno described both Tubbo and Tommy’s positions during the Manburg-Pogtopia war and even before that. He could only think of Ranboo and the way he was dragged into the Butcher Army business without consent. He could only think of the way Quackity, Fundy, and Dream looked at Tubbo when he walked around L’Manburg, president of a nation he had little to no power over.

“I’ve made so many mistakes,” Tubbo hiccupped, tears sliding down his cheeks. He rubbed harshly at his eyes as he began to cry. “I abandoned Tommy and now he’s _gone_.”

Phil stilled, his wings going stiff. He watched Tubbo as he started to sob and dread began to build in his stomach. He didn’t want to think about the implications of Tubbo’s words. Gone, but how? In what way? Like he left exile, or something else?

He let Tubbo cry and when he ran out of tears he let the boy slip into sleep. He got up and grabbed a blanket and pillow for the boy, letting him sleep on the floor. He went back to the window, looking over the rain-soaked L’Manburg.

Ranboo was long gone and Friend was tied to a post on one of L’Manburg’s lawns next to the lake underneath the boardwalks. A bird watched him closely, sitting atop a fence on the same boardwalk the redstone executioner was built atop. Phil didn’t have to look long at the bird to realize that it was the messenger raven he had sent to Techno ages ago.

He popped open his window and let the bird fly into his home, shutting it after the bird was safely inside. The bird hopped onto the table, shaking out it’s wet wings, before letting Phil approach it and take the rain soaked message that was tied around it’s leg. It was still legible, and the message itself sparked hope in the avian’s chest. There was no signature, but Phil didn’t need a signature to know who it was from.

_Stay safe. I’m coming to save you soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear each chapter gets longer than the previous one. Google Docs says that this chapter is 4731 words long. That's almost 5000 words, like wtf. How did I manage that this was kinda a filler chapter! And I don't even have an OUTLINE. Also I am uploading this without 1 final edit (even though it's already had like 3 edits) so maybe I'll recheck it tomorrow for typos. So, don't judge me for grammar mistakes if they are there. I'm tired. I wanted to get this out earlier, but it's my own fault for starting to write it days after the last upload. I try, kinda. Lol.
> 
> EDIT: Grammar and spelling mistakes? Pfft, you all saw nothing ;)
> 
> Also, at this time, this story has almost the same amount of words as viewers, with only a couple thousand difference. That means for each word in this book there is a viewer and that in and of itself breaks my brain. Like, Jeebus Crisp, there is a lot of you.
> 
> So, those dreams, am I right? :D
> 
> Ngl, I might add Punz content this this story. I have a couple ideas of where I want this to head, but like, do I go full Mother Gothel Dream like the original prompt or do something else? Just things I'm thinking about, hehe.
> 
> And I can't help but add outside POVs despite this being Tommy-centric. I just like writing the other character too much.
> 
> But seriously, the attention this book has gotten is insane. Guys, seriously, wtf. I said I wanted clout but I did not expect it in this quantity, ever. I've reached a point where people beg for more content from me. Have I made it in the fanfic world now that I have reached that point? How do I know?
> 
> please leave comments and kudos i love interacting with you all <3


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